The Raven
by Thegreenconsultingdragonlord
Summary: Will's antics had always been ridiculous, but when one of his dumb capers causes Merlin to inadvertently fall in love with a boy on the internet, things start getting a little complicated. Merlin/Arthur. Modern Day AU. Based on the movie 'You've Got Mail'
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! So this is my first long Merlin fanfic.**** Given that this show is the reason I've been depressed since Christmas 2012, I decided to write a light, romantic fic instead of angst because we already have enough of that from the real show. Also, in case the T rating didn't tip you off, there's no smut... sorry!**

**A few things: **

**1) The story is set in a modern day Camelot. ****Which basically means that it's like modern day, except they're living in Albion not England and the kingdoms are set up in the way they are set up in the show. ALSO the university system is a little bit different from the current British university system. **

**2) I'm Indian. a.k.a. Not British. So if my slang is a bit off, I apologise. I tried to make it as accurate as I could, but shit happens. **

**3) This is loosely based ********off of the Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movie 'You've Got Mail', but this fic was also inspired by a Wicked fan fiction by Vinkunwildflowerqueen also called 'You've Got Mail'. This is in no way a copy of her fanfic, it's just that it was her fic that gave me the idea to put Merlin and Arthur in a 'You've Got Mail' type situation in a university setting so I thought I'd mention it. But yeah, if you like Wicked you should check her fic out because it's great! **

**********Anyway, I'll shut up now. Hope you enjoy it! **

* * *

**The Raven**

**Chapter One **

Merlin was in his seventh year when he was speed-walking down the school hallway and accidentally crashed into a distracted brunette who was hovering near a bulletin board, making him spill his cola all over himself.

"I'm so sorry!" Merlin had stammered, "I was trying to make it to Economics before the bell!"

Merlin waited for an angry retort, but was instead greeted by howls of laughter. He stood blankly before the sopping boy, looking from the white shirt he had ruined to the green eyes that were streaming with tears.

"What?" he asked, when the red-faced boy finally stopped laughing.

"Nothing." The boy replied, wiping his eyes. "I just didn't realize there were people in this school who were that excited to get to Economics class."

Merlin later told his mother that he hadn't ever met anyone so peculiar. Which is why, he admitted, he had to become friends with him.

It had been six years since that day. Six long, wonderful years that comprised of eating buckets of ice cream while yelling at the telly, of almost burning down the kitchen, of music festivals, sombre conversations and lip-syncing to dramatic Beyoncé songs while the other kids were off smoking in 'the alley'. After six years of friendship, Will was more of a brother to Merlin than his actual half-brother was. Not that Galahad was a bad brother. But the large difference between their ages, and the unfortunate fact that Galahad had moved to the outskirts of Camelot, kept the two boys from being anything more than adoring acquaintances. Will, on the other hand, had been there through it all. He'd laughed when Merlin choked on his first cigarette, patted him on the back when he'd had his first kiss, defended him when Henry Miller had called him an emaciated owl and shrieked with joy when Merlin had announced he'd gotten into Sorsbrooke. What meant the most to Merlin, however, was the way he had reacted when Merlin had told him his secret.

Merlin could remember the day vividly.

He had known Will for a year and a half at that point, and he finally felt like enough time had passed in their relationship to tell him the truth. He later told Will that he had been 'nervous', but that was actually a colossal understatement. He was so anxious he could barely breathe.

Hunith had advised him not to. "People change when they find out things like this," she had warned him, "I would wait a while longer."

But Merlin had insisted. "You're the one who taught me that it's nothing to be ashamed of. That it makes me special. How can I let Will call me his best friend when he doesn't know something that's such an important part of me?"

He'd known it was dangerous. After all, his revelation could result in a lot more than just a broken friendship. But he trusted Will. So he had gathered his courage, dropped his gaze and said the three terrifying words.

"I have magic."

He remembered hearing Will's breath hitch right before the room dropped into a steely silence. Merlin had continued staring at his shoes, heart pounding, not daring to look up and see the expression on his friend's face.

Finally he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and glanced up to find himself staring into those familiar green eyes.

"And despite that, you still haven't found a way to fix your hair." Will shook his head, reprovingly. "Honestly Merlin, there must be some sort of spell to keep it from… jumping all over the place. It looks like it's trying to run away from your scalp."

That was Will. Flippant, obnoxious and an absolute joy to be around. Which is why it killed Merlin that in a few short months he'd be leaving Ealdor - and the two people he loved the most in the world - to attend Sorsbrooke Academy in Camelot.

* * *

"I'm so bored!" Will whined, emphasising his words with a feigned nasal tone. He sat up on the bed and threw Merlin an accusatory look from across the room.

"I have to study." Merlin reminded him, waving the thick book in the air before opening it up again.

"Why?" he demanded, "You already got into university."

"That doesn't mean I want to fail sixth form."

Will flopped back onto the bed, making the bedsprings screech in protest.

"I can't believe you're leaving," he mumbled.

Merlin peered up from his book and watched his best friend stare at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars Galahad had stuck on the ceiling all those years ago.

"Will?" He asked, cautiously.

The boy didn't respond.

It made Merlin's heart ache when Will fell into such silences, because it was a reminder of just how much his looming departure was affecting him. Will usually gave off an air of nonchalance regarding everything, so seeing him brood made Merlin want to apologize a thousand times more for choosing Sorsbrooke over Ealdor's Sera University.

But Merlin knew he'd made the right decision. While it pained him to leave Will (and even more so to leave his mother) it was essential that he get away. He'd never set foot outside of Ealdor, yet he'd grown up knowing that he didn't fit in. He'd always been a friendly and outgoing person, but apart from Will he hadn't really been able to relate to the kids he went to school with. They were close-minded, unable to fathom that there was a world beyond the narrow walls of their stifling town. It wasn't that Merlin wasn't happy with his life in Ealdor… he just never felt like he served any purpose there.

"I promise I'll keep in touch," he said, earnestly.

"I won't have time to read your colossal emails," Will groused. But he sat up on the bed and glared at Merlin.

"Why are you going anyway?"

There was a short pause as Merlin stared helplessly back at him, desperately seeking the right words. But once again they evaded him, and he settled instead for his trademark answer. "You know why."

It was vague, but somehow Will seemed to understand. He scowled at Merlin like a petulant child who had just been denied a chocolate bar.

"But why Camelot? It's so bloody far away. Why don't you go somewhere closer? Somewhere in Ascetir?"

"I… don't know."

"You want to be closer to your old pal, Uther Pendragon, is that it?"

Merlin grimaced, the name filling him with a rage he didn't often feel. "Don't talk about that old troll."

"Then why the hell do you want to go there? He's the bloody king, you know that, right?"

Merlin shrugged uncertainly and received a withering look from Will in response.

"I honestly don't know," Merlin confessed. "The university sounded fantastic, the campus is gorgeous…"

"You _want _to leave, don't you?"

They stared at each other again - Merlin's light blue eyes trying to hide their distress and Will's green-brown ones filled with determination. As expected, Merlin broke first, sighing deeply.

"I just want to see what it's like."

"Why?" Will demanded.

Merlin internally flailed to find the words to explain. 'To find my purpose in life' would sound melodramatic and empty, even though it was the truth. He'd been born a child of magic in a world where magic was banned. He was like a werewolf in a land of hunters, hiding in plain sight but scared of the day when he would be discovered. Merlin didn't believe in a god, but he'd always felt like he had been put on earth for a reason. He refused to believe he was just a pig bred for slaughter. He had never told Will (or his mother) because he knew they would misunderstand… but he'd always felt like he was just half a person. Incomplete. A puzzle missing a piece right in the centre of the picture.

And he knew the missing piece wasn't lying at home.

"Because I don't know what it's like," Merlin said, simply. "I've never been outside of Ealdor. I just want to explore other kingdoms."

Merlin could practically see the thoughts raging in Will's mind.

_Then why don't you wait till we graduate and we'll explore other kingdoms together. _

_How can you abandon me here? _

_I know you want to do this alone… but why? _

But he knew Will would never voice what he was feeling. He never did.

"I'm bored." Will said eventually, looking around the room.

Merlin rolled his eyes, and turned back to his book.

"Where's your laptop?"

He waved a listless hand towards his bedside table and Will grabbed the thin Macbook with enthusiastic glee.

"Your password is still Eragon, right?"

"Yeah."

Will snickered, "You are such a dork."

"Hey!" Merlin protested, "Eragon was a fantastic book. You would know if you read it."

"I watched the movie. Eragon was a very badly CGI-ed dragon."

"Ok firstly, the movie is utter rubbish. Secondly, Eragon is the boy, not the dragon and third something cannot be CGI-ed. CGI stands for…"

"Way to prove you're not a dork, dragon boy."

Will's head was buried in the laptop, and Merlin could hear him typing furiously.

"_I'm _the dork? You're the one who practically started crying when Andrew Scott signed your copy of 'The Final Proble…."

"What's your email address?" Will asked, interrupting him.

Merlin frowned, "critter95 at 5kmail… why?"

"No reason."

He looked at Will suspiciously, and the boy gave him a guileless smile before turning back to the computer screen. Merlin was about to turn back to his book when a sudden realization hit him and he groaned.

"You're not changing my facebook status to 'Merlin is a dingbat' again, are you?"

Will laughed. "No, but that was hilarious."

Merlin threw down his book, accepting that studying for his upcoming History test was a fruitless endeavour while Will was in his house, and sat down on the bed beside him, trying to peer over his shoulder.

"Honestly, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," Will said, moving the laptop away.

Merlin didn't like the impish glint he had in his eye. He lunged for the laptop, but the brunette anticipated his move and held the device out of reach.

"What are you doing?" Merlin demanded, getting on his knees and trying to grab the laptop again. "If you are downloading another Hannah Montana album, I swear to god…"

Will finally brought the laptop down and dumped it on the bed-spread. Merlin stared perplexed at the purple web-page open before him.

"The Raven?" He asked, turning to Will uncertainly, "What's this?"

"You've never heard of it?" Will asked, disbelievingly, "There are ads for it everywhere."

Merlin stared at the computer screen. The page was cluttered with white boxes filled with text, above which hung the title written in calligraphic black lettering. The namesake bird was perched on the 'n', staring down at the tagline:_The Raven will show you the way. _

Merlin snorted, "The Raven will show you the way? To what? The loser who came up with that line?"

He reached for the laptop, but Will grabbed it from the bed.

"I'm not done creating your profile yet." He said, matter-of-factly.

"My _what?" _

"Your profile. This is a pen-pal website."

"Huh?"

Merlin leaned over Will to get a better look at the screen.

"Basically," Will continued, the keys chattering beneath his fingers, "you make a profile about yourself. Sort of like an ad for yourself, if you will. Then you post your email address. People who want to be your pen pal will email you, and you can send a few emails back and forth to see if you get along. If you don't, you hang back and wait for someone else to email you. But if you _do _get along, you remove your profile, essentially showing the world that you have found your pen pal soulmate."

"That doesn't sound too… I'm a _girl?" _Merlin yelped.

Will had started creating the profile, but it wasn't about Merlin. It was about an 18 year old girl who sounded extremely dramatic. It wouldn't have bothered Merlin, except that 'she' had his email address.

"What is this crap? Give me that…" Merlin dove for the laptop again, but Will managed to grab it in time.

"You know I always get my way with these things," He said, smirking at him.

Merlin knew it was true. There was no one in Albion more stubborn than Will. So he huffed and fell back into the pillows, fuming silently as Will typed away, breaking into giggles at regular intervals. After a few moments, the computer was shoved proudly into Merlin's hands and he read the profile slowly, groaning as he realized that Will had already submitted it to the site.

_**Girl, 18. **_

_**A wild-eyed dreamer. **_

_**Abandoned, Forsaken, Forlorn.**_

_**No one understands me. Am I speaking another language? **_

_**I'm a melancholic alcoholic, trapped in the neon colours of my mind. **_

_**I just want someone to talk to. Someone to sympathise with me. Someone to care for me and think about me and hold my hand while I take flight and defy the rules. Someone. **_

_**Someone. **_

_**I need someone. **_

"_**Lost and snared in the twilight forest of your mind**_

_**Strangling claustrophobia, losing your sense of time**_

_**Besieged by people, yet consumed by isolation. **_

_**Hollow thoughts, empty dreams, a mental stagnation." **_

Merlin was giggling by the time he finished reading the profile. He'd always claimed that Will had a talent for coming up with the most absurd ways to alleviate his boredom, and this just proved it.

Unfortunately, the repercussions of Will's boredom-induced antics always ended up affecting Merlin. Like the time Will had 'friended' random people on Merlin's facebook, so that he was constantly getting bizarre messages from odd people. Or when he'd tried to do tie and dye and ended up colouring all of Merlin's socks bright pink. Not to mention the time Merlin's first and only girlfriend, Freya, had found the Hannah Montana album Will had downloaded on to Merlin's computer and made him watch all four seasons with her.

"Seriously Will?" Merlin asked, turning to his grinning friend.

It was obvious that Will's ridiculous profile would only attract weirdos. His so-called 'best friend' had basically made sure that his inbox would be plagued with emails from overly dramatic, mournful people for the next few months.

"Abandoned, Forsaken, Forlorn?" Merlin asked, disbelievingly.

"I just looked up the word 'alone' in the thesaurus," Will said, chuckling. "Didn't you like the melancholic alcoholic bit? It rhymes!"

Merlin shook his head, trying to seem pissed but was unable to hide a smile.

"Hey, It's not completely made up," Will pointed out. "I put that poem you wrote in it."

"Yeah, I noticed."

The last four lines of the profile was from a poem on Merlin's blog. It was a very simple poem. One of his worst - in Merlin's opinion - but it came to him on a day he felt particularly alienated from the rest of the townspeople. He had left it on his blog because he felt like it managed to capture, in a very raw way, what he was feeling at the time. As usual, Will had read it, laughed and called Merlin a powder puff. He'd always thought Merlin's poetry was 'lame'… which was probably why he made sure to put some in the profile.

"Bloody hell, Will, now my email address is out there for the whole world to see. What if someone we know sees the profile?"

Will's mouth dropped open in feigned surprise, "You know other people!?"

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him and Will laughed.

"Relax. You'll get a bunch of weird replies, we'll laugh over them and then delete them. No big deal. I'm hungry. Are any of those cookies your mom made still there?"

* * *

**The first few chapters are kind of an introduction, but it will pick up.  
Please review! I'd love to know what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

"Shit, NO! Oh f… move! MOVE!"

"Bloody sirens. They're so distracting."

"Damn piece of shit. Move!"

The sound of tapping buttons was drowned out as Arthur's hollers grew louder. Tomas's car was a lap behind, but he knew that didn't mean it couldn't overtake his. He bit his lip in concentration and hammered the buttons on the controller with an impassioned energy. The car zoomed past the finish line and he hooted, throwing his controller on the floor.

"Yes! Fifth time in a row. You really need more practice."

He turned to look at the boy beside him, his lopsided smile slowly fading as he noticed the way Tomas gently put down his controller.

"Damn it," Tomas said, collectedly. "You beat me again."

"So… want to play another round?" Arthur asked, running his fingers anxiously through his hair.

"Sorry my lo… uh.. Arthur. I have to go soon."

"Oh."

Arthur tried to hide the dejection in his voice. He was done with his lessons for the day, which meant that if Tomas left he'd have nothing to do except watch movies. And he was bored stiff of watching movies.

Tomas got up from the bean bag chair, but remained hovering over Arthur with a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

"I _was_ wondering, though…"

Arthur perked up. "Yes?"

"Do you think I could borrow some money?"

The air rushed out of him like a deflated balloon. Money… of course. It was always about damn money. For one idiotic second he had thought that perhaps Tomas was asking him to come out with him and his friends, but that was stupid. Who wanted Arthur's seven foot tall bodyguard hanging around while they were sneaking into clubs?

It wasn't that Arthur didn't have friends. He had plenty. And it wasn't like he had never done anything, either. He had managed to ditch André and sneak into tons of clubs. He'd gotten high under the bridge, he'd snuck into girls' houses and had sex in their beds, he'd gone to seedy video game arcades and vomited in the bathrooms of cheap pubs. He'd done everything 'kids his age' were supposed to do.

The problem was that he never quite enjoyed doing any of those things.

A part of the reason was because he was doing all of them with people he didn't really feel at ease with. He called them friends out of convention, but they didn't treat him like he was a friend. They treated him like he was the prince. And because of that, Arthur could never tell how much of what they were saying to him was genuine.

There was only one person who he was wholly comfortable with, and that was Morgana. She was a distant cousin of his - no one was entirely sure how they were related, at this point - but she was more like a best friend to him than anything else. She was the only person who could burp louder than he could. She had named his dog, bashed up his car, teased him about his 'perfect' hair… but, most importantly, she'd always been completely honest with him.

The only problem was that she lived in Caerleon, which meant that they only met when she came to visit on vacation. Which wasn't as often as Arthur would have liked. Occasionally they would send each other emails, but between his princely duties and Morgana's short attention span they only sent each other a few lines a month. They _were_ friends on facebook, but Arthur didn't care for the site and rarely used it. It was extremely impersonal, he believed, and he already had enough of that in his 'offline' relationships.

Tomas was still waiting for an answer, one hand slightly outstretched. Arthur stared into the empty palm, feeling that now-familiar burning sensation in his throat.

"I don't… have anything right now, man," he said slowly, knowing the reaction his revelation was going to warrant. "My dad cut me off after he caught me smoking weed last week."

Tomas's expectant hand dropped limply to his side, "You're kidding me."

There was a disappointed disbelief in his voice which made Arthur feel both distressed and angry. But he took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "I would give you some if I had any," he said firmly.

"I can't believe this!" Tomas glared down at the prince. "The one time I ask you for something!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded, feeling the rage start to bubble up in him. "It's not like I've ever asked you for anything."

"Well you're the bloody prince, what do you need?"

_Real Friends, _Arthur thought to himself, but he remained silent. Instead, he got slowly to his feet, narrowing his eyes at the lanky boy before him.

"So you hang out with me for money, is that it?"

Tomas's voice faltered and Arthur took advantage of his momentary speechlessness to walk closer to him.

"You don't have to say anything. I know what you all think. You think I'm an idiot, don't you? You think that I don't know what all of you wankers really are. Trust me, I do. But I hang out with you because I believe that maybe one day, one of you will somehow transcend being a shallow asshole when you realize that I'm…" He stopped, composed himself, then continued in a low, mirthless voice. "You'd better get the hell out of my house before André kicks you out."

It was only when he could hear Tomas's heavy footsteps on the stairs when he finally sank back into his chair.

It always ended this way. Every single bloody time.

He'd thought Tomas would be different. The night they had gone out to the new nightclub by the racecourse had been one of the most enjoyable nights he'd had recently, but Tomas turned out exactly like the rest of them. To them Arthur was a vending machine; they only put in their time because they expected to get something out of it. And every time it ended the same way - with them demanding things and Arthur getting angry.

It never felt good, either… the anger. It just made him feel empty. Of course, he would be lying if he said seeing the fear in their eyes when he confronted them was completely unsatisfying, but it was a fleeting pleasure. In the end, it was just further proof that there was no one he could rely on. No one in the entire godforsaken world.

Arthur trudged to his room and flopped down onto his bed, exhausted. He had been at court all morning at the behest of his father, and he felt like he would scream if he heard another person say the phrase, "As it pleases you, my lord." As far as Arthur knew, they didn't live in an episode of Game of Thrones, so he wasn't sure why in the 21st century the men of Uther Pendragon's court were still talking like they had sticks up their asses.

He sat up and dragged his laptop over to him, his fingers automatically opening youtube. He was browsing through the new music videos that had been released when a pop-up ad appeared on the side.

_The Raven? _

Arthur had heard about the site - a girl he had hooked up with once had told him the story of how she met one of her closest friends through it - but he hadn't thought about it since then. However, seeing the ad now, at a moment when he felt particularly vulnerable, he got a strange feeling that the daunting black bird was calling out to him, commanding him to click the flashing button.

He did, and immediately felt foolish as the web page loaded up. He was Arthur Pendragon. There were girls who had blogs dedicated to pictures of his face. There were men who chased him down the street, begging him to be friends with them. He was nothing short of a celebrity in Camelot… yet here he was about to reach out to a complete stranger for friendship.

He was being completely idiotic… he didn't need a pen pal.

He moved his cursor over to the red dot on the left corner of the browser window, but froze as the image of Tomas's angry face floated back into his mind. Arthur recalled the look of fury in his eyes, like he was being cheated out of money that was owed to him. Like spending time with Arthur was a job that required compensation. Soon, Arthur was trapped again in his memories; of how Jenna Angelo went on a date with him just so she could get her face in the Camelot Guardian, of how Harry Davenport would constantly call and ask for bail money, of how Tanya Patel would keep demanding expensive gifts.

And as Arthur realized - once again - that his entire life consisted of people who liked him only for his title, his mouse developed a life of it's own. Before he knew it, he was scrolling through pages and pages of profiles, silently hearing the screams of people as lonely as he was.

_**My name is Brie and I like to go cycling early in the morning down the… **_

_**Barry, 23. I just want someone chill, who likes alternative rock… **_

_**Derek, girl. My dream is to become a pool shark…**_

He floated over most of them completely uninterested. The few that caught his eye, he opened in new tabs, hoping to whittle his choices down. But they were varied… he still wasn't sure what he was looking for. He was surprised at just how many people were looking for pen-pals, though. Since when was writing to a stranger such a popular phenomenon? Eventually he found himself browsing through profiles that had been created over a month back. Most of them were stale, boring profiles… the unclaimed ones that hadn't able to capture anyone's attention.

He was just about to give up and go through his shortlist when a post caught his eye. It was an odd post, and Arthur found himself laughing as he read it.

_**Girl, 18. **_

_**A wild-eyed dreamer. **_

_**Abandoned, Forsaken, Forlorn.**_

The girl who posted it sounded both extremely needy and extremely strange… neither of which were qualities Arthur needed in a pen-pal at the moment. Yet, he couldn't stop re-reading it. There was something about the last four lines of the profile that enticed him.

"_**Lost and snared in the twilight forest of your mind**_

_**Strangling claustrophobia, losing your sense of time**_

_**Besieged by people, yet consumed by isolation. **_

_**Hollow thoughts, empty dreams, a mental stagnation." **_

It was a short poem, he realized. Simple. Bland, almost. But it managed, very profoundly, to describe that hollow feeling in his chest he woke up with every single day. The fact that someone else had managed to capture a feeling he had been at a loss to illustrate - and in just four lines, at that - struck him. Then again, Arthur had never been very eloquent. He had more trouble expressing his feelings than he did finding friends who saw past his title.

Before he knew it, in what felt like a drunken stupor, Arthur was copying the anonymous girl's email address into a new message and typing.

_Dear..._

_Well, I don't really know what to call you. You didn't put a name on your profile. But then again, I think that might have been one of the reasons why I picked you to write to. The other reason was that... alright, this is going to sound completely idiotic, but I sort of felt... drawn to you. You posted your profile a month ago and you still haven't found the right pen pal. In a sense, I feel like... well, like I was meant to write to you. _

_I'm probably coming across as a little creepy, aren't I? What I meant to say is that I understand what you mean in your profile. Particularly that bit in your poem when you talk about feeling like you're utterly alone even when you're surrounded by people. Thats's what resounded with me… that poem. It's sort of the way I feel every day of my life. Pathetic, isn't it? _

_I think the problem is people. In this world, how do you know who you can truly trust? _

_I don't know why I'm saying all this to you. As far as I know you could feed me a bunch of lies and I wouldn't know any better. I watched a TV show once where this guy had been writing to this girl for three years. He poured his heart out to her, and though they never met, she sent him photographs of herself and poems she had written and all this other stuff, and by the end of it he was completely besotted. He eventually managed to track her down and found out that she was a fifty year old schizophrenic woman with four children. _

_Now I know that was a TV show, but truth is stranger than fiction, right? _

_But you know what, I don't care even if you are a fifty year old schizophrenic woman with four kids. All I need is what your profile promised me... I just need someone to talk to. I'm not looking for anything more than a sounding board. _

_That sort of came across as rude, didn't it? I just meant to say that I don't care if you're not what your profile says you are. _

_If you do decide to reply to me after all the garbage I've just said to you, then I hope we can... well, keep it mysterious. _

_I guess now you probably think I'm some sort of serial killer... I'm not, by the way... but for my own comfort I'd like it if we didn't share any personal details with each other - I don't think we should share our real names or where we live or anything like that. _

_That said, I really do hope you reply. As I said, there's... well, there was something about your profile... I just can't put my finger on it... but I feel like we'd get along. _

_Cheers,_

Arthur faltered at the end of the letter.

He was surprised by how candid he had been. It was usually extremely difficult for him to express his feelings, but there was something about putting in down in writing that felt more personal. It was gratifying… the idea that what he wrote would only be shared with one other person. The concept that he could write something which the whole world wouldn't be able read about in the newspapers. It filled him with an alien sense of joy and he had allowed the words to flow honestly and naturally. But he had reached a roadblock… it was time to lie again. He certainly couldn't give his own name, that would defeat the purpose of writing to a stranger over the internet in the first place.

Arthur had been crouched over his computer for half an hour before it hit him.

A name that had been floating around his house since he was a child.

A man his father had been telling him stories about since he was old enough to remember. The name would work well as a signature. Arthur quickly typed it and clicked send. The swooping noise as the letter vanished into the esoteric world of the internet made Arthur's stomach jump.

Now it was up to the universe to decide what to do with it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Merlin stared at the email blankly.

It was from someone named thegoldencoin at 5kmail . com. Merlin couldn't recall any of his friends having that email address… so it couldn't be a prank, could it? Would any of them really go through the trouble of making a new email account just to prank him?

_You didn't put a name on your profile, _the letter said. What profile? It must have been a spam mail, or perhaps someone from a dating website accidentally entered Merlin's address instead of… well, whoever they were supposed to send it to. He was about to click the reply button to tell the sender they had got the wrong person when it suddenly hit him.

That absurd pen-pal website Will had signed him up for over a month ago.

Will had been extremely disappointed when two weeks had passed and Merlin still hadn't received any replies. Merlin hadn't been surprised. He couldn't imagine a single person who would want to talk to that oddity Will had made up. Not when there were so many other, far more interesting people on the site.

But he was surprised now. He tried his hardest to remember the details of the profile, but all he could remember was how ostentatious it sounded. It was unfathomable why anyone would be drawn to it… let alone this adorable sounding, obviously intelligent guy.

Was it a guy? It sounded like a guy. The email was signed with the pseudonym 'Ares'. Ares, Merlin recalled, was the Greek god of war… which meant it had to be a man, right? Merlin read the letter again, and then once more. It would be better to delete it, he decided. How could _he_ write back to someone who was trying to communicate with that fake person Will had created?

Merlin closed his laptop. He was late for school. He could decide what to do about the letter later.

It wasn't like it was important.

* * *

Merlin spent the entire day in an absentminded haze. His geography teacher had even yelled at him for being distracted - something that didn't happen to him very often.

"What's the matter with you, mate?" Will asked at lunch.

"Nothing… I just didn't sleep very well last night, that's all."

But it had nothing to do with sleep. Merlin was distracted thinking about how Ares had said it was the poem in the profile that had resounded with him. The poem. The only bit of the ridiculous profile that was _Merlin_. He couldn't remember anything Will had written, but he remembered the poem. It was a part of a much longer piece he had written on his blog. And that's what Ares had liked.

Merlin was on his computer mere minutes after coming home from school. His school bag lay sprawled on the floor, and his shoes and jacket were still on, but he found himself fervently typing in the web address for 'The Raven'. He had been in his Math lesson when it occurred to him that his profile would still be up on the website… and he was increasingly curious to see what Will had written.

The page loaded, and Merlin's heart sank.

_This Website No Longer Exists. _

Merlin skimmed the paragraph below it, learning that the website had been taken down because it broke some sort of law.

What were the chances that the website would be taken down _a day_ after someone wrote to him?

He quickly switched back to Ares's letter, trying to glean anything he possibly could from it about his own profile, but all he remembered was the poem. Merlin almost let out an exasperated scream, but then caught himself. What was the matter with him? Why was he taking this so seriously? It wasn't like he needed to remember what was on the profile to reply to Ares. He didn't actually _have _to respond to Ares at all.

But he would be lying if he said he didn't want to.

Ares was reaching out to him. He sounded… wounded. And for some strange reason Merlin wanted to help him.

It was dark by the time Merlin finished composing his response. He felt foolish for taking so much time and care to write it, but he didn't want to accidentally say anything that could scare Ares away. He quickly re-read it, and then hit send, his heart thudding in his chest.

_Dear Ares, _

_The Greek god of war who happened a ripped playboy? My, aren't we modest. _

_To be honest, I'm a little surprised you replied to my profile. From what I remember it was extremely…uh, whiny. And weird. I just want you to know that that is not what I'm like. As in, I'm nothing like the way I - most probably - came across in my profile. I suppose you could say I was in a 'mood' that day. The only bit that was actually me was the poem, and since you mentioned that that was what you related to, I felt that maybe we could get along… but if you're looking for that whiny, dramatic person, I don't quite think either of us would enjoy this very much. _

_You didn't come across as creepy in your letter at all (were you trying to? If so, you might want to work on that a little). And yes, I get what you mean. I also felt compelled to reply to your email, but I think that has less to do with destiny and fate, and more to do with the things you said. _

_I know exactly what you mean about being alone even when you're surrounded by people. Sometimes I feel invisible where I live, but mostly I feel like people don't really understand me (I'm sounding like profile now, aren't I?). I don't mean it in a cranky, teenage "No one understands me!" way… I mean it in a 'I feel like I'm out of sync with the rest of the world' way. Like I'm an alien trying to communicate, but people just aren't getting it. And yes, I agree… the problem is people. But I think the solution is also people. More specifically, you need to find the right people. People who can understand you and who will stay by your side even when things get hard. And personally, I believe that when you find them, you will know. _

_One day you will meet a person who won't initially seem like much, but eventually will prove to be extraordinary and you won't be able to imagine your life without them. I suppose for me that person is my best friend. I know I can trust him (I've known him since I was eleven) and we've pretty much been there for each other since the day we met. I guess I'm lucky in that sense. I'm sure it's harder to know who to trust as people get older and learn how to lie better, but I still believe you'll find someone. It's the way they deal with the little things… that's how you'll know they really care about you. _

_But you've got to remember that nobody is perfect. I love my friend like a brother, but he teases me constantly… about things I'm proud of too. And not in that teasing way where he's showing affection. He's believes in total honesty. And while I respect that, it can get exhausting after a while. _

_ I'm glad it doesn't matter to you if I'm a fifty year old schizophrenic woman - I'm not, but why would you take my word for it? I just pretty much admitted that the profile you read about me was full of lies. But here we are, possibly starting a correspondence, and I want to lay it all out there for you. The profile was not me, but this is. And I'm happy to be your sounding board. As it so happens, I need one now as well. I'm leaving everything I know behind in a few months to go off to uni. I'm not scared though. In fact, I'm incredibly excited. I really need this. I feel like… like I've been floundering here, in my town. Honestly, I can't wait to get out. That said, it's still incredibly hard to leave my mother and best friend behind. _

_ I don't know where you're from, and since you've requested to keep the correspondence mysterious, I won't ask. But have you ever travelled? I want to travel. Or at least travel enough to discover where I'm meant to be… because it sure as hell isn't here. _

_I'm glad you wrote to me, Ares. I hope you continue to do so. _

_Best, _

_Emrys _

The fake name had taken Merlin ages to come up with. He had bounced between naming himself after someone he knew and naming himself after a character from one of his books, but he couldn't seem to settle on anything. None of those names seemed have any real significance for him.

It was only when he decided to stop stressing about it and went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich, when he remembered the 'Emrys' incident.

It happened a few years ago. He had been walking to a café with Will when he, like the clumsy fool he had always been, stumbled on top of a homeless man who was sleeping on the pavement, brutally waking him up. Merlin had apologized profusely, but as he talked, the man just stared at him with a look of extreme intensity.

"Emrys?" He asked, once Merlin had finished his frantic spluttering.

Merlin was, of course, completely taken aback by this question and Will had burst into peals of laughter.

"I'm sorry?" Merlin asked.

"Don't be, Emrys. All is forgotten." The man said, before lying back down on the ground.

Will had referred to the man since then as 'Loony Street Man', but Merlin had always regarded the incident as something more profound. The man had spoken well - his clear accent made him sound almost like a professor - and the way he had looked at Merlin had given him shivers. It was almost as though he knew something about Merlin that he didn't know about himself. Merlin went back to that street the next day without Will, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

Emrys was the perfect name, because it had nothing to do with his real name, yet it was something that he associated with himself. And it was shrouded in enigma - just like Ares.

* * *

**Thank you so much for the follows, favourites and reviews guys :) I really appreciate it! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oh… yes, of course father."

Arthur picked up his fork and fumbled with the peas on his plate, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. Once again, he had been caught mentally composing his next email to Emrys… something he found himself doing increasingly often. After five minutes of silence, he allowed himself to hesitantly look up, and found his father staring at him with a peculiar expression on his face.

"Is… something wrong?" Arthur asked, hastily.

"Son," his father put down his spoon, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Of course, father."

The room filled with a thick, expectant silence.

Arthur picked up his glass of water and slurped loudly, pretending to not realize that his father was waiting for an explanation. Uther had very obviously noticed his son's recent preoccupied behaviour, but Arthur wasn't ready to explain the source of it. Mostly because he knew his father would be furious if he realized Arthur had been regularly communicating with a total stranger.

"What if they are from the press?" He would say, angrily "What if they found out your email address and are taking you for a ride?"

He was full of conspiracy theories… and Arthur didn't want to hear any of them. The emails he received from Emrys were the highlight of his week, and he wasn't about to let his father take that away from him.

Arthur had been shocked when that first letter arrived.

It wasn't so much that he hadn't expected a reply to his rambling email… it was more that he hadn't expected a reply to come so quickly. And he hadn't expected it to be so nice.

He was also surprised because he had never heard the name 'Emrys' before. He'd googled it, hoping to see where it came from; he assumed it was the name of a fictional character or a name from some other country, but no hits came up. Clearly, it was a fake name, but it intrigued Arthur that no one else in the world had it. How had she possibly come up with it?

He wanted to ask her, but he realized that that might break their 'confidentiality code', and he reluctantly dropped it.

It didn't take long for them to start a full-fledged correspondence, and Arthur realized quickly that he was extremely lucky to have found her… and on his first shot too. He felt like he could really _talk _to her. Granted, part of the reason was because she had no idea who he was and he had no preconceived notions about her, but more than that, they seemed to be on the same wavelength. Arthur found that he could talk to her about everything - from what other people would consider the most banal subjects, to things that excited him to his very core. He could be light and teasing with her, but could just as easily slip into deep, intense discussions.

_Dear Emrys, _

_Have I told you about my dog? His name is Jesse. My best friend named him. You remember the friend I told you about who lives far away? Well, she's a huge Breaking Bad fan. Have you seen the show? I still haven't gotten around to it. She keeps pressuring me to, but I don't seem to find the time. Anyway, apparently there's a character in it called Jesse. According to my friend, he's the human incarnate of a golden retriever (apart from all the drug dealing stuff, of course). So when she heard that I got a golden retriever puppy, she insisted that I name him Jesse. I wanted to name him Dobby, because he has the biggest tennis-ball eyes… but she didn't let up. She always seems to get her way. So his name is Jesse now, and I love him more than I can possibly say. _

_Dear Ares, _

_What do you think happens after you die? I don't believe in God… so I've never really believed in a heaven or a hell either, but I like to believe that you go somewhere after you die. Personally I imagine 'heaven' to be an alternate version of our current lives. A version where everything happens they way we've always wanted it to. __When I die, I hope I wake up in a huge, glass-walled apartment overlooking the sea, where I can spend my days reading and where my fridge never runs out of ice lollies._

_Dear Emrys, _

_Have you ever wondered HOW you will die? I always imagined I would be run over by a lorry. Don't ask. It's just a feeling. Mostly cause I have this unnatural fear of speeding lorries. But it would be an awful way to die, because you would be smashed… and I would like an open-casket funeral where people can gaze at my beautiful face and cry about how the world is now deprived of it. And that can't happen if my face has tire tracks on it, now can it? But seriously, I'm not joking. I'm honestly terrified of speeding cars. Unless I'm the one driving them, of course. _

The emails were usually extremely long and would come about once every week. Every Thursday, mostly. Arthur would send his reply on Monday and eagerly wait four days to hear from her. And when the finally reply came, he would crawl into his bed and read each and every word with relish.

"Arthur."

_Damn it. _He was doing it again.

"Hmm?"

"Son, I'm going to get straight to the point." Uther coughed into his napkin, and then gave his son a stern look. "I want you to promise me you will answer with complete honesty."

Arthur felt his throat constrict, but he made sure his expression didn't betray his inner apprehension.

"Of course, father."

"Are you seeing a girl behind my back?"

Arthur almost laughed with relief. He was worried Uther had seen the emails from Emrys, but it was just his father coming up with his conspiracy theories again.

Well, the King wasn't _completely_ wrong. There was a girl… but Arthur certainly wasn't _seeing _her.

"No father, there isn't."

Uther visibly relaxed. "Oh good. I was worried you were going around with Marie."

"Marie who works in the kitchens?"

"She's a pretty, young thing. I thought maybe you were sneaking around with her."

Arthur frowned. "Why would it be wrong if I was?"

Uther's face hardened, "Are you?"

"I've already said no."

"Then why have you been so distracted lately?"

"I…"

Arthur bit his lip, "I'm nervous about university."

It wasn't a downright lie. His father had announced to him only two days prior that Sorsbrooke Academy - the university Uther and Arthur's grandfather had gone to - had given him admission. Arthur hadn't applied like all the other students, but he probably wouldn't have gotten in even if he had. Arthur didn't have the marks to get into Sorsbrooke. He knew the only reason they didn't reject him was because he was the crown prince, and the fact that the King called them up personally to demand they give him a seat.

Arthur had mixed feelings about the news. On one hand, he was mildly disappointed. Not because he didn't like Sorsbrooke - it was an old and respected school, with a extremely strict 'no paparazzi' policy to insure privacy for their famous and wealthy students - but because it was only on the other side of Camelot. Yes, the Kingdom was huge… but it would barely take his father a three hour drive to come and visit him. And while he loved his father, he was hoping university would give him the space he never had growing up.

Arthur had never studied in a 'school' environment. He had been homeschooled all his life, and while he had no problem meeting people and making friends, he'd never experienced being in a school where parents didn't have the ability to pop into every lesson and check on how he was doing.

But on the other hand, Morgana had gotten into Sorsbrooke, which meant that Arthur was finally able to be near the cousin he missed so terribly.

"That's what this is about?" Uther stared at him doubtfully and then laughed. "Sorsbrooke is nothing to be anxious about! Trust me, Arthur, you will love it there. Just as I did. And Morgana is going to be there with you, too."

"I know, and I'm really excited about that. I just… I wish I didn't have to take Percival along."

"I went with my bodyguard, and it turned out just fine."

"But I don't know Percival! Why can't I take André?"

"André is far too lax with you."

"I'm going to bloody university, father. Not primary school."

Uther shot him a stern glare. "Language."

"I'm sorry."

Arthur sighed and stared at the mashed potatoes on his plate, realizing how futile arguing with his father was. The man never saw things from Arthur's point-of-view. He never had.

"As I was saying," his father continued, "I had my bodyguard with me but that didn't stop me from meeting your mother."

Arthur's head shot up at that.

He knew the story of course, but he was always eager to hear about his mother. Uther rarely spoke about her. So when he did, Arthur listened quietly. Even one added detail to the story could give him a better idea of what she was like.

Igraine was just a shadow in Arthur's mind. He'd seen photographs of her - young, blonde and absolutely beautiful - but her appearance didn't matter so much to him. He wanted to know what she was like. So he nagged relatives and family friends to tell him all they could about her, because the more stories he heard, the clearer she got in his mind. He _had _to know everything he could about her, he would tell them, because he wanted to know if he was anything like her.

"I was in my second year and she was in her first. She was dating that fool Gorlois then. But I knew from the moment I saw her that we were going to get married."

Uther's eyes glazed over, and he got that dreamy smile he always got when he was talking about Igraine. Arthur couldn't prevent a smile of his own when he saw it.

"She was utterly uninterested in me at first. Said that she didn't care if I was a prince… she was from a well-to-do family so she had met 'plenty of bastards like me'." He grinned. "But I didn't let up. I was a perfect gentleman. I helped her carry her books, I gave her my jacket when she was cold… we would meet at the campus coffee shop, 'The Bean', to discuss books and poetry. Those were the days. That term went by in a dream."

Uther paused to take a bite of his chicken. He chewed it agonisingly slowly, thinking.

"It was at the dance," he continued, "It's a Sorsbrooke specialty… 'The Winter Ball' they call it." He laughed, and Arthur's smile grew wider. "It was a formal dance. They held one before every winter break - not sure if they still do it. Last I heard they had shifted it to the end of the school year and were calling it the 'Summer Bash'. How crass. Anyway, I danced with her all night. I could tell she liked me too, by then… she hardly said a word about him the whole time. I remember thinking how beautiful her eyes were… then he came in. He was furious. He hadn't been at the dance. He was late, some problem with his car or something. But he was so angry he attacked me with a swiss army knife."

Arthur cringed, as per his custom, when Uther pointed at the long, white scar on his forehead.

"But it was the best thing that ever happened to me. She broke up with Gorlois that night… and a week later she was mine."

Uther's smile faded and Arthur cut in immediately.

"More chicken, father?"

Uther took the bait, and switched the conversation to how the chicken had improved since they got a new cook.

Arthur let out a small sigh of relief. With everything going on, he didn't want to be reminded of his mother's abysmal end… and all that it had led to.

* * *

**Hope you guys are liking it! Leave me a line, let me know what you think of it so far?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Dear Emrys, _

_ I'm ashamed to say I don't read that many books. I'm more of a… TV shows and movies kind of guy. And while I firmly believe that you can learn a lot from TV shows and movies, I agree that there is some sort of… magic… in books that you just can't find anywhere else. It makes me wish I read more of them. But I get bored easily. I sound like a total prat, don't I? But if it's possible to appreciate food without being a gourmet, why isn't it possible to appreciate books without being an avid reader? _

_ From what you've told me it seems like you read a lot. I'm jealous. I wish I had the motivation to sit down with a nice book the way I've been doing with your letters. Now I'm making it sound like I don't read at all. I do, I promise. I've read all seven Harry Potter books (so much of the magic is lost out in the movies, isn't it?), I've read the classics like Dickens and Jane Austen (but that was mostly because I was forced to by my school teachers) and of course, I spent too much of my childhood reading Famous Five. But there has only been one book since I turned fifteen which really struck me. It was called 'The Lionheart' and it was about this great explorer who would go around discovering and conquering lands. One day, he saves his boy from drowning and takes him along on his conquests with him, and over time they grow really close. But here's the thing… this explorer has a great fear of werewolves. He hates them… mostly because he's scared of them and doesn't understand them and he slays any one of them that comes in his way. But it turns out (I'm going to spoil this for you… sorry) that the boy he saved and grew to love is a werewolf. And the boy knows of his fear, so he doesn't tell the explorer what he really is. Well, until much later, anyway. _

_ The thing is, I read the entire book believing that this explorer was the lionheart that the title referred to, but it hit me only after I had finished that he wasn't. It's the boy. He's scared that if he's discovered he'll be killed, but he still stays by the explorer's side because of how much he loves him… and slowly he manages to convince the explorer that werewolves are nothing to be feared. He's the lionheart because he had the courage to push his fear aside to stand for something he believed was the greater good… and I think… well, I think that's beautiful. It's something I aspire to do with my life. _

_ So you're off to uni in a couple of weeks, right? Hope it goes off well. I can only imagine how nervous you must be. Take care, alright? Don't do anything stupid like I would probably do. _

_ Ares_

* * *

"Will, pass that towel will you?"

Will, who was lounging on the bed with a comic book, gave the towel beside him a bored, cursory glance.

"I don't feel like getting up," he drawled.

Merlin glared at him, but quickly swept his gaze around the room to make sure his mother was nowhere in sight. Then he muttered a few words under his breath.

Will's eyes lit up as Merlin's eyes - literally - lit up. The towel lifted off the bed and floated across the room, as if captured by a stray breeze, and fell into his open suitcase. Will clapped his hands gleefully.

"That never gets old!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. Will had made it his mission (since the day he found out) to get Merlin to use his magic as much as he possibly could… which was unfortunate, since it took Merlin all the self-restraint he could muster to resist doing so. It just seemed so much extra work getting up to do things he could easily do without lifting a finger. But if Hunith - or worse, anyone else - caught him, he knew he'd be in big trouble.

Merlin had never learnt any spells officially. Obviously, no one was willing to risk execution by teaching it, so Merlin knew only the few spells he had gotten off the internet. But he stopped looking those up too, when Galahad had informed him that the King had men who could track internet histories.

But it was ingrained in him. It came out like a reflex action, and without anyone to teach him how to harbour it, Merlin had a very poor control of his powers. Particularly in his early teens, he found himself in several very awkward, seemingly inexplicable situations which he'd then have to come up with ridiculous explanations for. One of Will's particularly fond memories was the time Merlin had accidentally blown the electricity and shattered all the lightbulbs in the boys bathroom when he was trying to stop bullies from picking on Will. The room had fallen into suffocating darkness and the bullies had panicked and run away screaming. For the rest of the year they whispered 'devil boy' every time Merlin walked past them, but they never touched either him or Will again. Merlin almost got in serious trouble for it, but his youthful complexion and innocent expression easily convinced the headmaster that it was merely a freak accident he himself didn't understand. Will, of course, backed his story.

Over time such situations had reduced because he actively tried to control his magical impulses, but that didn't change the fact that he loved doing it… it felt natural and right, and every day he had to keep it hidden felt like a battle.

"Can I use your laptop?" Will asked.

Merlin sprang to his feet, panic rushing through his body.

"No!" He shouted, making the boy drop his comic book in alarm.

"Christ. What's the matter with you?"

"I… er…" Merlin's ears turned bright red, "don't want you to do random shit on my computer, that's all. I'm sick of having random people from Zimbabwe send me friend requests."

Will grinned, "Alright, I promise I won't do anything. I just want to check the match scores."

Merlin felt another wave of panic pulse through him.

The message he had been composing to Ares was open on the laptop; if Will found out that Merlin had a pen pal, he would not only insist on reading all the emails they had sent back and forth, but he would then proceed to laugh at all the 'pansy' things Merlin had confessed to Ares. He would then most probably call Ares a loser, gloat about how it was _his _profile that helped them find each other, and get angry that Merlin hadn't informed him as soon as Ares's first email arrived. And with less than a week before he left, Merlin wanted to avoid as much conflict with Will as he possibly could.

That's what he told himself at least. The truth was that Merlin didn't want to share his emails from Ares with anyone else. Their friendship was personal. He didn't understand how he could feel such a strong bond with someone he had never met, but he did. And he felt like not even Will understood him the way Ares did. There was a… depth in their letters. They could talk about nothing and everything. Merlin could read between the lines and understand what Ares was trying to say even if he didn't explicitly say it, and he felt like Ares could do that too. He felt like could talk to Ares about anything. Anything except his magic.

Hunith had walked in one day when Merlin was composing a letter to Ares. He was telling him about how his father had died, and his eyes had gotten a little misty. When his mother walked in, he had abruptly minimized the window, but Hunith had caught his startled motion.

"Merlin… what's going on?"

"Nothing, mum."

"Are you crying?"

He hastily wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to brush it off, but his mother sat down beside him and gave him a concerned look.

"Is someone bullying you?" she asked, "Merlin, tell me. Is someone hurting you?"

Merlin had laughed then, and proceeded to tell her everything. In general, he had never been much good at lying to his mother, so he knew it was only a matter of time before she found out. She listened silently and didn't ask to see the letters when his story was done. Instead, she put her hand on his cheek.

"I sound like a loser, don't I?" he asked, laughing weakly, "Writing to a complete stranger?"

"Not even a little," she promised, smiling.

"It's weird though, mum… I feel like…. like I really understand him. Like I've known him in a previous lifetime."

Will snapped his fingers in front of Merlin's face, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Earth to Merlin. Where's your laptop?"

"It's broken," Merlin blurted out, "The screen is just all…"

He waved his hands about manically, and Will shot him a quizzical look.

"You're really anxious about university, aren't you? You're acting like you've lost your marbles. "

Merlin grinned sheepishly. "I guess a little… nervous about university, that is. I've not lost my marbles. Yet."

He bent down and started stuffing things into his suitcase, feeling a sickly mixture of relief and guilt in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like lying to Will…

"Are you worried about Arthur? Is that it?"

_Huh? _

Merlin frowned, turning around to face the boy on his bed. Will's lips were pursed, worry lacing his usually carefree features.

"Who's Arthur?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "Arthur Pendragon… the prince."

Arthur Pendragon, of course. Merlin shook his head, reprimanding himself. He should have guessed… it wasn't like he knew any other Arthurs.

Arthur Pendragon was Uther Pendragon's only son. He didn't do much apart from showing up in newspapers and teen magazines, sometimes for minor discrepancies like 'Crown Prince caught drinking whiskey behind McDonalds!' but usually just as a dot in the background, helping his father cut ribbons or doing some other rubbish to make it seem like their family wasn't the reason so many witches and warlocks had lost their lives. Merlin didn't pay him much attention, but all the girls in his school seemed to be obsessed with him. Of course, _that _had less to do with the prince's actual personality, and more to do with the fact that he looked like an Abercrombie model.

"Why would I be worried about the prince?"

Will let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're joking, right? Don't you read the news?"

"I don't give a crap about Uther Pendragon's family, you know that."

"You dolt!" Will got up from the bed and slapped Merlin across the back of his head. "Are you telling me you seriously don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Merlin asked, rubbing the back of his head. He tried to sound annoyed, but was starting to get worried. Why was Will looking at him like that?

"Arthur Pendragon is coming to Sorsbrooke with you!"

Merlin's throat suddenly felt dry. He tried to say something, but his head was spinning.

"You didn't know that?" Will gaped at him. "How did you not know that?! Do you have any idea how worried I've been for you!?"

"Uther Pendragon's SON is coming to Sorsbrooke?!"

Will sent him a sympathetic look, "I thought you knew."

But Merlin wasn't listening. He was suddenly in a nauseous daze.

"He's going to catch me… oh my god, I'm accidentally going to reveal my magic and he's going to execute me!"

"Merlin, calm down."

Merlin's eyes were wide, and his voice was coming out high and panic-stricken.

"This is going to be terrible, Will!" He cried, looking distraughtly at his friend.

Will jumped off the bed and bent down beside him, patting him awkwardly between the shoulder blades. "Come on. It'll be fine."

"No it won't! I'm going to have to be even more discreet about my magic there! If I make one mistake I'm a dead man! It's going to be absolutely awful!"

"Well you knew that… you're going to Camelot." Will reasoned, weakly.

"Yeah but it's going to be a hundred times worse if the king's_ son_ is going to be there!" Merlin slumped onto the ground. "Damn it. Just when I was starting to get really excited about the whole thing," he mumbled.

"Hey, it'll be OK." Will promised, "There are like… what… ten _thousand _people on campus? You probably won't even see him!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites! :) I'm probably going to have the next chapters up relatively quickly (Spring Break is coming up and I have a particular chapter I want you all to agonise over while I'm relaxing) **

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Dear Ares, _

_ Did you really? What did he do then? Oh my god! You are such a dollophead! _

_ That's an interesting question. I think - given the choice - I would prefer to be brilliant and have just one really good friend. Sure, having lots of friends and being dumb is a tempting option, but I think I'd like myself a lot better if I was whip-lash intelligent. And if I have just one friend in the world who appreciates me and loves me despite how annoying - I presume - extreme intelligence makes me, then I think I'd be happy. Sometimes you just need that one person, you know?_

_ I'm going to university this week. My half-brother lives near by so he's picking me up from the train station and driving me to campus. I love him a lot, but I hardly see him… so every time I meet him I always get really awkward, like I'm meeting a stranger. _

_ He has an online art business. He used to be a stage actor, but he started getting these… episodes. Like fits, almost. He starts flailing and convulsing and the worst part is he doesn't remember anything when it's over. One day he got one in the middle of the show and they fired him. He hasn't acted in anything since. _

_ You asked me once why I don't believe in God and I told you that I don't know… but I do. There are several reasons, but this is one of them. Theatre was his true love, his one passion… and that has been brutally stripped away from him. If there really is a God he wouldn't let something like this happen. He wouldn't give my brother fits just to make him lose the one thing he really loved. _

_ I used to really envy him… still do, in a sense. Despite everything, he knows exactly what he wants. I, on the other hand, have no idea what I want to do with my life. I used to want to be a doctor, but I gave up on that. Instead, I've decided to study a subject that I really enjoy, but one that I don't particularly want to have a career in. But the way I see it, I'm sort of taking life one day at a time. If I try thinking about the future I get far too overwhelmed… so I'm just trying to survive each day as it comes. _

_ Now, your question about what my greatest fear is. So, I always give you deep answers regarding questions like this, and I'm sure you're expecting me to say something like 'to die without having done anything of importance' or 'to do something evil believing I'm doing something good' but here's the honest truth - my greatest fear is snakes. They scare the crap out of me with their beady little eyes and their creepy pronged tongues and ugh… It's because when I was a child, I used to have dreams of a woman who would use a snake to control me. It would crawl under my skin and sit there… and then anything she would tell me to do, I couldn't help but do it. I used to have the same nightmare over and over again, but luckily it stopped after I turned twelve. It was terrible though. I still get shivers just thinking about. _

_ Sorry this letter is so short, I have tons more to do before I leave. But I did want to ask you… don't answer if you think this is too personal, but… why did you choose the name Ares? I mean, given the choice why wouldn't you go for Adonis or Apollo? _

_ Cheers, _

_ Emrys_

* * *

Merlin watched the trees pass by in a green blur, trying to ignore how heavy his heart felt. He shifted his focus to the squeaking of the old Ford's windshield wipers and the faint smell of cigarette smoke that hung in the air, but he still couldn't get the image of Will and his mother waving goodbye to him from the platform out of his mind. He was finally out of Ealdor. Out of the stifling, backwards town that didn't understand him, and was now shooting down the exciting, new roads of Camelot… but the lump in his throat still refused to disappear.

"You really ought to get a new car, Galahad," he mumbled, and the tall, pale boy beside him laughed, his black curls bouncing in the breeze.

"Yeah? You going to buy it for me?"

"This car is terrible. It keeps squeaking and groaning… I'm scared for my life."

Galahad grinned at his brother, showing off a set of perfect white teeth - a memento from his days as a thespian.

"Do you honestly think I'll let anything happen to you?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't."

The two of them fell into silence again. Merlin briefly considered asking Galahad about his new online art business, but he already knew things weren't going that well. Mostly because Galahad had taken up smoking again. He would deny it if Merlin ever asked and he usually never had a cigarette in his hand when Merlin was around, but Merlin had seen the pack of cigarettes in his glove box and the smell of smoke in the air was unmistakable, even though someone had tried to cover it up with air freshener.

So instead, he let his mind float back to Ares. It was Monday, which meant that Ares's email was going to come soon. Merlin had finally gotten the courage to ask him how he came up with his pen name… a question he was eagerly awaiting the answer to.

"How's mum?" Galahad asked, breaking the silence.

"She's good. She misses you tons. You should visit more often."

"Wish I could. The trains are bloody expensive nowadays though, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

His brother shot him another grin. "I'm glad you're here, M. It'll be nice to have you close by. You're coming to stay with me during your break right?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I can?"

Galahad's smile dropped slightly. "I meant the mid-term break. You'll have to go home for the Winter."

Merlin nodded slowly, turning to the window by his side.

"You wouldn't even want to stay with me," his brother continued, "You are going to have such a good time in uni. Plus, my apartment is small and poky. There's this cranky old crone that lives next door to me, and she's almost deaf, yeah? So she _blasts _the telly so loudly I can hear everything from my apartment. And trust me, you do not want to be woken up at six in the morning to the sound of Notting Hill."

Merlin gave a polite laugh and nodded weakly, "Yeah, I guess. But I would still like to stay with you."

He watched as Galahad's expression slowly turned wooden, his watery blue eyes fixed on the windshield.

Clearly his brother wasn't enjoying this particular topic of conversation.

Merlin told himself to drop the matter, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

"Look… I'm not saying this so that you will let me stay with you during Winter break. I mean, it's your apartment… it's your call. I just want you to know that it doesn't bother me. Your… episodes, that is. I wish you'd stop pushing me away… I know what you're like on them. I've seen you…and I don't care. I can help you…."

Merlin's voice faded as he saw his brother's hands tense on the steering wheel, the pit of his stomach suddenly twisting with dread. Galahad had always been sensitive when it came to the discussion of his episodes. If he lost his - surprisingly fiery - temper, Merlin had nowhere to hide.

"It's not about caring, Merlin." Galahad said eventually, his voice collected.

Merlin let out a small sigh of relief.

"I'm dangerous during those episodes. I have no control… and no recollection after. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Look, it's fine for you to come and stay during the term break… really. But I don't want you to stay with me for too long. They don't come very often, but I don't want to risk it. The longer you stay the higher the chance is of one of them coming on." He gave Merlin an unsteady smile, "I'm just looking out for you, M."

Merlin returned his smile, "I know, Galahad. And I really appreciate it."

The conversation about Galahad's episodes broke the ice and the initial reservedness Merlin always felt after re-acquainting himself with his brother evaporated. Merlin spent the rest of the trip chatting amicably about home, school, his mother and Will. He even - at one point - took off on a full-fledged rant about how aggravating Arthur Pendragon and his decision to come to Sorsbrooke was… a speech which had Galahad in stitches. The nervous energy which had made Merlin quiet and moody in the beginning of the trip was all but gone by the time the Ford pulled into the parking lot of an old, large brick building.

"I checked out the website," Galahad said, unbuckling his seatbelt, "And apparently this is the registration building. Let's get you signed up."

The two of them walked into the building, and for a second Merlin stopped in his tracks, overwhelmed by the off-white stone hallways that were bustling with people and colour. Galahad eyed the boisterous crowd wearily, but pushed his through way through the hoards of people, creating a path for Merlin to follow. Being far skinnier that his brother, Merlin was knocked around and had his toes stepped on at least a dozen times before they finally reached the large hall at the end, which was - surprise, surprise - also teeming with people.

Galahad pulled out a printout of the new student orientation instructions and perused them while Merlin watched the other students swarming in thick groups around the warm, wood panelled room. Each of them seemed to be in their own little bubble; he watched a skinny girl in ugg boots hugging her dad, an awkward, brawny boy taking a photograph with his whole family and several very pompous looking, lanky boys in button-down shirts who seemed like they were friends from before. Most of all, Merlin noticed the not-quite-furtive glances girls were giving his brother. It was unavoidable, of course. While they both had pale skin, high cheekbones and blue eyes, Galahad's dark curls, broad shoulders and chiseled features made him look like a model straight out of a Burberry catalogue, while Merlin's disheveled hair and blunt features made him look like a lost 15 year old.

Merlin didn't mind. The attention Galahad's looks brought him had never bothered him. Mostly because Merlin was, and had always been, completely uninterested in relationships. Freya, he had come to realize, was merely a rite of passage. She had been his first kiss and his first girlfriend, but Merlin had soon understood that what he had for her was companionate affection and not romantic love… which is when they had broken it off. He hadn't dated anyone since then. People in his school had asked him if he was asexual, and while Merlin knew that he wasn't, his response was always that he didn't like labels. The shallow idiots in his school had taken that to mean that he was, indeed, asexual - because they couldn't comprehend depth of any kind - and Merlin had eventually given up trying to explain it to them. He didn't mind being thought of as asexual. What difference did it make, anyway?

But it was true that Merlin hated labels. You don't fall in love with genders_, _he'd explained to Will, you fall in love with _people. _There were times when he noticed and enjoyed how attractive a girl was, just as they were times when cute boys made his stomach flutter… yet in the end, he had never liked someone enough to want to be with them. It was a simple concept, but Merlin didn't understand why it was necessary for him to define it.

"Alright. It says here that we have to get your room keys and ID card from that desk over there," Galahad said, pointing to a large desk with a extremely long queue. "Why don't you go wait in line, and I'll go fill out the medical forms from that other desk. That way maybe we can speed the process up a bit."

Merlin smiled, "Sounds good."

Galahad headed towards a desk at the end of the hall and Merlin grudgingly got into the obnoxiously long queue. He was scrabbling in his pockets for his ipod when he heard a timid voice behind him.

"You look a lot like your brother."

Merlin jerked his head up to find a dark-skinned girl with long, black tresses and thick-framed glasses standing behind him. She was wearing a black t-shirt with the name of a band he didn't recognize and faded blue jeans.

"That boy I was just talking to?" Merlin asked, raising his eyebrows. "He was just asking me if I knew where the bathroom was. I have no idea who he is."

The girl's mouth dropped open.

"Oh my god. This is so awkward. I'm so sorry, I didn't…" she began spluttering until she saw the grin on Merlin's face. "You do know him!" she admonished.

Merlin laughed sheepishly. Will had warned him at the station to keep his lame jokes under wraps until he got to know people better.

"Yeah… sorry. I have a terrible sense of humour."

"Yes you do." She said frowning. Then, realizing what she just said, her eyes got wide. "I mean… you don't. I mean… I don't _know _you… so how can I know if you have a terrible sense of humour or not. But _that _was terrible…" she faltered.

Merlin chuckled, "I'm Merlin."

She looked relieved at the change of topic. "Gwen. Guinevere, actually… but everyone calls me Gwen."

"It's nice to meet you."

They smiled at each other awkwardly.

"So… you nervous?" Merlin asked, "About starting university?"

"Quite." Gwen blushed. "As you could probably tell."

"Well… don't be." He said, smiling, "You've already made a friend."

* * *

Merlin waved until Galahad's car disappeared from sight and then fumbled with the key-card, rubbing it against the reader at the door. It finally clicked open and he walked back into the quiet hallways of his new dorm. Luckily, Galahad had time to help him unpack and set up his room, so he didn't have to do it all himself. It looked nice, his room. It wasn't too big but it was warm and bright and had enough closet space for all his clothes. He'd even managed to get the bed by the large window, since his roommate hadn't arrived yet. He sat down on the clean bedspread, and stared out the window at a rack full of rusty bicycles, feeling a odd mixture of fear and excitement. Then he turned on his laptop and checked his mail. Apart from a few emails from Amazon, offering him 'back to school' products, there was nothing at all. Ares should have sent his email by now. Why hadn't it come yet?

The sound of the door opening caught his attention and he turned towards it just in time to see a tall boy with shaggy black hair stumble into the room holding a large box.

"Do you need help?" Merlin asked, jumping to his feet.

The boy grinned, and Merlin grinned back automatically, struck by how attractive he was.

"Nah. I got my brothers helping me. We're good for now."

He put down the box and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Who knew shoes could be so heavy, huh?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You have a whole box full of shoes?"

The boy frowned, scratching his bearded chin, "Well, I can't very well wear the same shoes for lessons, sports and parties, now can I?"

Merlin raised his arms in submission, "I'm not judging."

The boy grinned again and stuck out his hand, "I'm Gwaine, by the way. We should have… started with that."

Merlin laughed and shook the large palm. "Merlin."

"That's an odd name. I've never heard that one before."

"Yeah, I've never met anyone with it. My mum said she came up with it because she had a dream about a knight named Merlin."

Gwaine laughed. "That's so funny. I was named Gwaine after a cartoon Llama. My older brother named me. My parents really liked the name so they went with it. They didn't find out how Wes came up with it till years later, and by then it was too late." He looked around the room, distractedly. "You'll meet him soon. He's bringing up my printer."

"I took the bed by the window, I hope you don't mind." Merlin said, sitting back down on his bed.

Gwaine grinned, "Not at all. I was hoping for some wall space to put my posters up anyway."

Merlin smiled as Gwaine headed back towards the door, glad that for once in his life things seemed to be going smoothly.


	7. Chapter 7

******Thank you for all the follows and favourites! :) I really appreciate it. **

**This isn't one of the best chapters, but it's necessary to the plot... so please bear with me. The next chapter is a big one though! :) **

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_Dear Emrys,_

_ Sorry I didn't send my email yesterday. I haven't mentioned this to you before, but I'm actually going to uni too. I start today. _

_ The reason I didn't mention it before was because - this is going to sound totally absurd - I didn't actually think it was going to happen. But it did. I packed my stuff, got in a car and drove (It's ridiculous the amount of schools that open on the same day. I was stuck in traffic for hours). But anyway, I'm here now. It's so… alien to me. I'm sure that's how you must feel too, what with never having left your town before and all. _

_ That's terrible about your brother. No one should have to go through that. But I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. I know it sounds awful - me saying that when your brother is suffering so much - but I feel like maybe being away from theatre will lead him to something better. I don't know. It's a personal philosophy, really. I just think having a little hope is better than having none at all. _

_ Don't worry about not knowing what you're going to do with your life. You'll figure it out one day. Just… keep exploring, I guess. That's what my uncle always says. Try and do everything you possibly can. Maybe one day you'll find what you're looking for. _

_ I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now, but the truth is I've known from the day I was born what I want to become. And I'm well on my way to becoming it. It's sad though, because there are people out there who have the same job who don't want it. I'm not one of those people - I want this more than anything in the whole world, and I honestly believe that I could do it well. I'm not doing it for myself, either. I'm doing it because I know I can help people. I want to help them. But the problem is that other people keep getting in the way. There are people that can make you hate what you love… and I know far too many of them. But I don't want to feel that way. I don't want to hate it. _

_I'm probably not making any sense. I'd better stop now. _

_ But yes… about the name Ares. As I mentioned, I never knew my mother. So ever since I was a boy, my father has been the one telling me bedtime stories. He didn't know very many children's stories, so after I outgrew fairy tales he began telling me cleaned-up versions of Greek myths. Ares was his favourite god. Personally, I find Ares to be a bit of a douche. I mean, he sleeps around with other men's wives and he's known for his ability to slaughter thousands of men in battle… he's not exactly a role model. I could never understand what my father saw in him. But he liked him because he's brave and powerful, and he'd always tell me to aspire to be like him. So, I chose it for my pen name. But you're right… Adonis would have been far more accurate. _

_ What about your pen name? How did you come up with it? _

_ Cheers,_

_ Ares_

* * *

Arthur was sitting alone in his suite when it occurred to him that this new start at university was his opportunity to change his image.

Percival had helped him unpack and was now in a conjoined room, unpacking his own stuff. Arthur had reached campus late and had missed both the campus tour and the orientation dinner… so while everyone else knew at least one other person on campus, he was stuck with only his bodyguard for company.

He lay down on the freshly made bed and contemplated his new situation. Throughout his life, people had constantly taken advantage of him for his money and fame. And the only way to prevent that, he had been told, was to make sure people were scared of him. That's what his father always said - make them fear you, and they will never touch you.

But Arthur didn't want to be a cruel king. He didn't want to be like his father - blindly killing people who had magic. He had always insisted that they, like anyone else, deserved a trial at the very least. But his father told him that strict rules and fear kept people in control. And a king had to be in control, right?

It had always surprised Arthur that despite everything - the duties, the unwanted attention, the phonies, the bloody rules and expectations - he still wanted the crown. He wanted to be King; not because of the wealth and power that came along with it, but because he believed deep in his heart that he could be a good one.

He had once met the crown prince of Ceraltin - Prince Fyro. He had heard about Fyro before, of course. The boy was constantly showing up in the newspapers for creating trouble. And not for small things either. Practically every week there would be an article about how he almost destroyed some historical monument, or how he was found in the possession of some sort of dangerous narcotic. But when Arthur met him at Princess Elena's 20th birthday celebration, Fyro had confessed that he was purposely creating trouble because he wanted to live a normal life more than anything in the world. He didn't want to be the king, he said, and he was hoping his terrible behaviour would somehow convince the people and his father to crown someone else.

Arthur assumed that's how all princes and princesses were supposed to feel. Then why didn't he feel that way? Why didn't he hate that he was born into a practically pre-determined way of life? It obviously wasn't as glamorous a life as the ordinary citizens believed it was, yet Arthur wanted the crown more than he could possibly say. It was the profession he had always dreamed of, the person he saw himself becoming.

Yet, despite his shortcomings and his cries for help, perhaps Fyro was more suited to being king than he was. Fyro was surely not the type of guy who would let people take advantage of him.

Arthur stared at the smooth, unblemished ceiling. If he wanted to become king someday, he had to take a stand. _I'm not going to be cruel_, he told himself,_ but I am going to be strong. I'm not going to show any sign of weakness. _

Arthur wasn't about to let another Tomas come into his life. From this point on, he decided, he was going to call the shots.

* * *

"Merlin!"

Merlin stopped in his tracks and turned around to see Gwen walking towards him, waving her arms wildly. As she stumbled through the thick crowd, Merlin noticed that there was a beautiful, slender girl beside her. She had clear, pale skin and thick, lustrous hair that fell in waves down her back, stopping as it reached the top of her short black skirt. As she walked towards him, holding herself quite regally, several boys did double-takes. Merlin noted with a smile how adorable and mousy Gwen seemed in comparison.

"Where are you off to?" Gwen asked breathlessly as she reached him.

"Hall 106. I have 'Introduction to Art History' in five minutes."

"Morgana is in that class too!" Gwen squealed excitedly.

The girl next to her smiled graciously at Merlin, and he responded in kind.

"Oh sorry," Gwen continued, shaking her curls, "Merlin, this is my roommate Morgana. Morgana, this is Merlin."

"Nice to meet you Merlin," she said, "It's nice to know someone from one of my lessons before I've even started."

"Likewise!"

"I have Economics now, so I'll see you both later." Gwen said hurriedly. "But Merlin… maybe you and I can have lunch together?"

"Yeah, I was planning to meet my roommate in the Stevens Dining Hall at one-thirty. Why don't you join us?"

"Sounds good!"

She gave them a small wave and a wide smile before disappearing into an open classroom. Merlin and Morgana began walking down the hallway, an air of self-consciousness suddenly between them.

"So, Merlin…" The way she said his name was peculiar, like it was a foreign taste on her tongue. Merlin couldn't tell if he liked it or not. "How has Sorsbrooke been treating you so far?"

"It's been pretty good… but then again, I haven't really done much." When she didn't say anything in response, Merlin went on awkwardly. "I mean, I just met my roommate, went on the campus tour, had dinner with Gwen, worked out my schedule and watched Breaking Bad till I fell asleep."

Morgana mock gasped. "You _fell asleep _during Breaking Bad?"

Merlin laughed, relieved to find something they had in common, and they continued chatting amicably about shows and bands until they reached the large hall. For a moment they stood uncertainly next to the small stage at the front of the classroom, looking into the vast seating space that was dotted with students. Merlin eventually suggested they sit in the third row and Morgana complied, settling down in the seat next to him.

"So, you haven't run into the famous Arthur Pendragon yet, have you?" Merlin asked, as soon as they sat down.

Ever since reaching campus, Merlin had been bombarded with stories about people who had seen Arthur Pendragon - Gwaine had mentioned seeing him walk past the library, at dinner Gwen had gone on for half an hour about how she saw him getting out of a car, and on his way to brush his teeth Merlin bumped into a group of people from his dorm, only to get sucked into another conversation about the 'devilishly handsome prince'.

Secretly, by bringing up Arthur, Merlin was sort of hoping to find someone like him… someone who didn't think the prince was the human incarnate of a Greek God.

He waited patiently for Morgana's answer.

"Not yet," she said, finally, and Merlin thought he saw a playful glimmer in her eye, "I think the prat's been avoiding me."

He laughed, and Morgana gave him an amused half-smile.

"People haven't been able to shut up about him," Merlin confessed, "It's refreshing to meet someone whose first question is not 'Have you seen the prince? Oh my god. He's so fit'."

"Eh. He's not that good-looking."

"That's a first."

"Well, I mean…"

Morgana was cut off, however, when a slouching man with graying hair and a scruffy salt-and-pepper beard walked in and slammed his briefcase on his desk. The chatter in the large classroom slowly died down.

"Good morning, everyone," he intoned, "my name is Professor Septus." He scribbled a few lines on the board. "Here is my email address in case you need to get in touch with me about anything."

And so the lesson continued in a regular fashion. There were too many students for everyone to introduce themselves and still have time to learn about art, so Professor Septus rearranged them into several smaller groups. Merlin and Morgana were separated into two different groups, where they learnt the names and collected the university email addresses of their peers. Professor Septus then proceeded to continue with the lecture.

The lesson was fascinating, but after an hour Merlin started getting fidgety. He wasn't used to lessons where there was only a lecture and hardly any classroom discussion. As much as he enjoyed it, it was hard to pay attention. Though it was his fault, honestly. What else did he expect from a university with over 10,000 students? He tried to focus on the professor's words, but the room suddenly felt too hot, the air too stuffy. He agitatedly checked his watch, mentally commanding the minute hand to go faster.

"Picasso, for example, didn't start experimenting until much later in…"

Professor Septus was cut off by a loud hiss and Merlin jumped as a loud crack filled the room. The white board, which just a few moments prior had been bolted firmly to the wall, suddenly teetered dangerously. With a gasp of alarm Septus managed to jump out of the way right before the board fell to the ground with a deafening crash. The entire class stared at the fallen board in terror, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"My god," Septus mumbled, "can someone help me with this?"

Normally Merlin would have offered his help, but given the circumstances of what just happened he found himself unable to move. He knew what that was, and it wasn't a freak accident.

That was magic.

Someone had a sudden burst of magical impulse (emotion-related, Merlin guessed, based on his own past experiences) and the board had been ripped off the wall. Someone had accidentally used magic. Someone that _wasn't him_.

His head was buzzing. He glanced around the classroom, but everyone was in an identical position, gaping at the fallen board and the three boys who were now helping the professor pick it up.

There was someone in his class with magic.

Statistically, that shouldn't have been a surprise. But Merlin found himself shocked all the same. Shocked, but also extremely relieved. He wasn't the only person in Sorsbrooke who was trying to keep their powers hidden. Someone else in his Art History class was also struggling to hide their powers…. and he was going to find out who.

* * *

**Reviews would be lovely. I've been working on this story for quite a while now, and I'd really love to know your thoughts on it. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for the follows, ****favourites and reviews! :) As promised, I got this chapter up fairly quickly. Hope you enjoy it! **

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The air was thick with the smell of frying chicken and chips, tormenting Gwaine, Merlin and Gwen as they continued waiting in the never-ending line. There were several dining halls scattered around campus - from the least popular coffee shop 'The Bean' which was almost always empty, to 'Stevens' the basic, buffet-style dining hall with terrible food which was the most popular, solely because it had the fastest service. 'Wrap and Roll' the small but extremely comfortable snacks bar they were in, was the second most popular hang-out on campus, because it - supposedly - had the best crispy chicken wrap in all of Camelot. When they had joined the queue, over an hour ago, it had stretched all the way outside the glass doors. Merlin had been reluctant to wait but Gwaine had insisted, and the three of them soon melded into the line, joining the legions of bored students bathing in the light of the disappearing sun. Now, their persistence had finally paid off, and the three of them were only a few people away from their food.

"We're so close, I can taste the wraps," Gwaine said, enthused. He was by far the hungriest out of the three of them, proclaiming at ten minute intervals a new thing he could possibly eat in his food deprived state. "I'm so hungry I could probably eat that guy at the cash register."

"I'm so hungry I could probably eat that lorry outside." Gwen piped up.

"It's not a game, Gwen." Merlin mock chided, "Don't encourage him."

"Why is it taking to long?" Gwaine whined in a low voice, so as not to incur dirty looks from the few students ahead of them. "I hate people who can't make up their minds about what to order. They are the bane of my existence."

Merlin laughed. "Drama queen."

Gwaine made a pained face and Gwen giggled. Though Merlin had introduced them to each other only a day prior, Gwaine's outgoing nature and Gwen's accepting one had already created a warmness between the two.

"So Gwen, your roommate seems really nice." Merlin said in a feeble attempt to distract himself from the hunger pangs he was experiencing.

"She is," Gwen beamed. "She's really cool. It's just…" she made a face, "I think she's going through something."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Who are you guys talking about?" Gwaine asked, suddenly aware of the non-food related conversation happening around him.

"Gwen's roommate, Morgana. Yeah, so… what were you saying?"

Gwen looked troubled. "It's not a big deal or anything. It's just that… she has these lapses of…"

But Gwen's words were stolen from her lips as the glass doors of the snack bar flew open. Merlin heard her take a sharp intake of breath, right before she grabbed onto his arm, urgently digging her fingers into his skin. "It's him!" she hissed.

"What? Who?" Merlin turned around, his eyes landing on the newcomer who had just walked in with three other boys.

The three boys seemed vaguely familiar (perhaps Merlin had seen them at orientation) but compared to their leader, they looked like ruffians with their unshaven faces, scruffy jackets and muddy shoes. The leader was dressed simply - a tight black t-shirt stretched over his wide chest and broad shoulders, blue jeans and an doe-like expression that made him look incredibly….

"He looks taller in person, doesn't he?" Gwaine asked, pulling Merlin out of his thoughts. Merlin didn't reply. A surge of emotions was now rushing through him making him feel angry, unnerved and disconcerted all at once.

Gwen nodded eagerly. "He's what… six feet at least?" she squealed, "It's so odd to see him walking around like this. Like he's… normal."

The boy had walked to the front of the line where a boy and a girl were waiting to order and was now talking to them in a low voice. They gave him their absolute attention, nodding ardently every five seconds. Merlin strained to hear what he was saying, even though it was obvious to him - and everyone else there - what was happening. When Merlin finally accepted that he wouldn't be able to hear a word through the hiss of the frying pan, he shifted his attention to observing the boy's body language instead. It was all an act of course - the way he ran his fingers through his soft, blonde hair, the charming lopsided grin he put on, the way his blue eyes looked eagerly into theirs - he knew exactly what he was doing. He finished talking, and the couple proceeded to quietly step back, gesturing to the now-empty space in front of them.

The sizzle of the frying pan died down.

"Thank you." Merlin heard the boy say as he smiled at them with all the graciousness of his royal upbringing. "I owe you one."

And so the four boys joined the line, pushing Merlin's little group back towards the doors. The room filled with wonderstruck whispers. Merlin gaped at the newcomers who were now discussing the menu and then turned to look at Gwaine and Gwen, who had both been rendered silent by the events. What other reaction could one have in the presence of the great and imposing Arthur Pendragon?

Merlin glanced around the room at the other students who were clearly starstruck by the prince, feeling a hot bolt of anger run through him. Of course, why should anyone say anything? After all the great prince _obviously _deserved to get special attention after sitting idly by day after day, just watching as his father slaughtered witch and warlock with unnecessary brutality. They had only been waiting for an hour… but what was twenty or so more minutes of waiting when the royal clotpole was peckish? Oh yes, it was good to know that the boy who had claimed time and time again that he wanted to be a good king to his people had just walked into a dining hall and cut in line without any consideration for the other students who had been waiting for hours. Just like his father he _claimed_ to be selfless, yet it was blatantly obvious that he believed to be above the 'commonwealth'.

Merlin pictured himself punching that perfect nose of his.

"This isn't fair!" Merlin whispered angrily to Gwaine. "We've been waiting here for an hour!"

"There's only four of them." Gwaine shrugged, "Just let it go."

"Let it go!?" Merlin stared disbelievingly at his roommate. Why was he being so calm about this? "Gwaine, you're the one who's been griping for the past 45 minutes about how hungry you are."

"He's the prince, Merlin. Nobility?" he sighed, shaking his head. "They're all the same. We're expected to treat them like gods… even if they don't deserve it. Face it, there's little we can do."

"So this is it? For the next three years we're going to have to let him do whatever he wants because _he's the prince_?"

Gwen shrugged and Gwaine nodded. "I know it's not fair, but we have no choice, do we?"

"We do have a choice." Merlin stiffened his jaw, defiantly. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"What?"

"Merlin! No!" Gwen whispered, trying to grab his shirt as he stormed towards the front of the line. He heard Gwaine hiss something along the same lines, but he ignored him, stopping adamantly in front of the laughing boys.

"Excuse me." Merlin said, vehemently.

Arthur turned around to face him, and for a second Merlin found himself disoriented as he was confronted by those electrifying blue eyes. The prince gave Merlin a quick once-over and raised one perfect eyebrow. "Yes?"

"The rest of us have been waiting for our dinner for over an hour."

"So?" Came the tepid response.

Merlin gritted his teeth. "_So_ it's unfair for the four of you to cut in line."

"Look here," Arthur gestured towards the boy behind them, "This nice bloke here let us cut in front of him. I asked him, and he said it was OK."

"Well maybe _he _doesn't mind. But the rest of us are starving."

A small, derisive smile played on the prince's lips. "Too bad for the rest of you."

Arthur's three cronies burst into peals of laughter and Merlin clenched his fists, fighting back the fizzy strains of magic that were suddenly fighting to get out. Arthur turned back to the menu.

"Yeah, too bad we'll be stuck with a donkey for a king." Merlin muttered.

He thought he'd been soft, but at his words the entire queue fell into silence. The blonde boy turned back towards Merlin, his blue eyes wide.

"What did you just say?" He asked, incredulously.

Merlin shrugged, feeling very uncomfortable in the sudden hush.

"Do you know who I am?" Arthur spat.

"An arrogant ass?"

He heard Gwen gasp loudly. A few students mumbled under their breaths and several of them shook their heads reprovingly. Merlin knew how it looked - he was a scrawny nobody who occasionally tripped on air, while Arthur was known for his well built physique and his prowess on the football field. But they didn't know about his magic.

His magic. He couldn't use his magic.

Not in front of the prince. Not in front of so many people. He would be a fool to believe he could do magic and get away with it in front of so many witnesses and _the crown prince._ He wanted to assert his belief that Arthur didn't deserve special attention, not get executed.

Fear hit him hard in the gut. Arthur alone could probably beat him in a fight… he didn't want to picture what would happen if he was attacked by all four of them.

There was no way this could end well. Not for him, at least.

Arthur gave a mirthless laugh. "Don't you have a mouth on you. Look _Dumbo_, you'd better take those big ears of yours and fly away, or else…"

"What? You'll tell your daddy on me?"

The words left his mouth before he could stop them and he reproached himself severely. Once again his bad habit of feigning confidence when he was actually terrified came into play. He eyed the prince's clenched fist, waiting for the moment of collision.

But Arthur didn't lift a finger. Instead he turned towards his friends.

"Come on guys," he said, sending a withering look in Merlin's direction. "Let's get out of here. We don't need this."

They all agreed simultaneously, voicing their outrage and glaring at Merlin as they passed by him. Merlin stood obstinately in his place with his arms crossed until they disappeared from view, before sagging and letting out a giant sigh of relief. The other students gave him dumbstruck looks as he returned to his place in the line beside Gwen and Gwaine.

"I can't believe you did that," Gwaine said, stunned. "I didn't know you had it in you, Merls." He clapped him on the back and Merlin gave him a wobbly smile.

"I can't believe I did that either," he replied. "Honestly. I don't know what came over me."

"That was incredible, Merlin!" Gwen said, glowingly.

Merlin looked at her, surprised. "I thought you liked him."

"I said he was good-looking," she said, defensively, "but he deserved that. The last time I saw him… you know, when he was getting out of his car? He made his bodyguard carry all his stuff for him. The poor man could hardly see the path ahead with the amount of stuff that he was carrying, but Arthur didn't help at all. He was just carrying a pillow and staring at his phone."

"He seems like kind of an arse," a boy behind Merlin agreed. "Good on you, mate."

Merlin grinned and soon all the other students around him were clapping him on the back and hooting. He relaxed then, the panic he had felt moments earlier vanishing like Arthur and his cronies. Maybe dealing with the snotty prince would be easier than he thought.

* * *

**Reviews would be really appreciated :) I'm extremely eager to know what you guys think... **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Dear Will,_

_ How's uni going? Mum told me that Harry joined Sera too. That's probably nice. I mean, he's not quite me but at least he's there, right? _

_ I miss you tons. I tried calling yesterday, but your mum said you'd gone out. With who? Don't tell me you've already replaced me! I was watching 'Doctor Who' with my roommate last night and I missed you so much, because he really didn't get it. He kept asking me all these questions like 'why do they all speak English' and why the doctor looked different 'in that episode he watched on TV'. Plus, he didn't keep nudging me every five minutes going "He's going to die… no wait, she's going to die! I know it.". I know I said I hated it when you did that, but like you promised, I actually do miss it. He's a cool guy though, my roommate. I quite like him. His name is Gwaine and he's really fun. Kind of a troublemaker, like you. I've also become friends with a girl called Gwen. She's really sweet and adorable. She's out of your league though, so don't get all excited. _

_ Lessons have been pretty fun so far. I'm taking two history classes (they're a requirement for my major), an art history class and a novel-analysis literature class. The latter is a mandatory requirement for all first years, but I'm actually really excited for it. I have my first class tomorrow. Basically our teacher is going to give us tips on how to analyze texts for the first few classes and then, later in the term, we're going to have to pick a novel of our choosing and write an analytical paper on it. Sorsbrooke is all about freedom when it comes to lessons, and I love that. _

_ Alright, so here's the thing I've been dying to tell you (you were probably wondering why I'm sending you an email instead of calling. It's because I couldn't wait to tell you this.) I ran into Arthur Pendragon yesterday. You said I probably wouldn't bump into him, what with all the billions of students here, but I bloody did. And of course, he was as obnoxious as I predicted. My friends and I were in one of the school's cafeterias and we had been waiting in line for an hour when he showed up. Being the ass that he is, he decided that he's Mr. Big Shot and that he's allowed to cut in front to get his food. Obviously, no one was going to say anything to him because he's the bloody prince, but seeing him behave like that made me so angry (plus, I was trying very hard to suppress the urge to blast him against a wall), so on a - probably idiotic - spur of the moment decision, I decided to confront him. I went up there and insulted him and called him an arrogant ass… and I came away unscathed! He was with three guys, Will. He could have pounded me to death, but he just got angry and stormed off! I did it Will! I stood up to that bastard, aren't you proud? _

_ There's some sort of fresher party happening tonight. I don't know why they're having a party on a Thursday… but it's hosted by a student, so it probably has something to do with the hall being booked during the weekend or something, I'm not sure. But yeah, I'm going to pop in for a bit. It'll probably be… interesting, at the very least. Let's just hope the royal prat isn't going to be there. He probably won't. After all, why would he want to mix with the commoners? _

_ Cheers,_

_ Merlin_

* * *

Thirty minutes into the party, Gwaine was already singing and sloshing beer all over whoever was inattentive enough to sit next to him. He had then proceeded to - despite Merlin's warnings - dunk twelve shots in the span of time it took Gwen to finish one beer, which resulted in more loud singing, flirting (predominantly with Merlin) and wailing about how bad the music was. His sudden exuberant energy made Gwen nervous, and over the course of the night, she had subtly managed to move to the stool next to Merlin without Gwaine noticing.

Merlin had never been big on drinking (mostly because he had a very low tolerance for alcohol) but he'd always loved the atmosphere at parties; the more lively a party was, the more enthusiastic it made him. So much so, that occasionally his effervescence made people believe he was drunk on nights he hadn't touched a drop. But with Gwaine acting the way he was, Merlin refrained from getting too hyper. Instead he nursed a cherry rum and coke as he sat with Gwen on one of the tall tables scattered around the periphery of the dance floor. Gwaine had long since wandered off to the back of the large party hall and was dancing with a motley crew of students by one of the speakers.

"Do you think Arthur Pendragon is going to show up?" Gwen asked, sweeping her gaze across the dancing students, trying to seem insouciant.

"God, I hope not." Merlin muttered.

"He's a bully but he's nice to look at," she said, defensively.

Merlin bit his lip to keep from agreeing with her.

"I think he's just… misunderstood," she said, finally. "I mean, obviously he's arrogant and supercilious, but he's been raised in the palace. What do you expect? But I do think deep down he's actually a really great guy."

"On what grounds?"

Gwen made an awkward noncommittal gesture and Merlin scoffed.

"Exactly. He's not misunderstood, he's just… a dollophead."

"A what?"

"A dollophead."

"What is _that_?"

"It's a word I made up, and it suits him perfectly."

Gwen giggled, but allowed the subject to drop. "I feel so out of place here," she admitted shyly to him, "I've never been partying like this with people I didn't know. I mean… I know you, but I don't really _know _you, you know? As in…"

Merlin laughed, "Yeah I get what you mean, Gwen."

"It's just odd, that's all."

"Excuse me." A well-dressed, gangly boy with slicked, black hair had suddenly appeared at their table. "Would you like to dance?"

Beaming, Gwen nodded and took his hand. Merlin watched the boy lead her to the dance floor and then took a sip of his drink, letting his eyes hover over the other students drunkenly stumbling to the loud, beating music.

"Not dancing?" A voice asked in his ear.

Merlin turned around and smiled as Morgana sat down on the stool Gwen had just vacated. He raised his drink in response to her question.

She nodded in understanding.

"Having fun?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, it's pretty great."

"A little overwhelming though, isn't it?"

Merlin chuckled, "A little. They don't have parties like this in Ealdor."

Morgana nodded, and they fell into silence. Merlin felt the vibrations from the speakers run through their table as he tried to think of something to say to her.

"What did you think of class the other day?" Morgana asked, finally.

"It was pretty good. A lot of information to take in, though."

"I agree. Which is why I signed up for extra one-on-one lessons with professor Septus."

"You did?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"No… it's just… that was fast."

"Yeah well. I'm hoping to major in art history, so I thought some extra lessons couldn't hurt."

Merlin was about to voice his agreement when an arm suddenly snaked its way around Morgana's shoulders.

"There you are!" Arthur said, sitting on the stool beside her, "I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?"

"Around." Morgana grinned at him. "Didn't think I was going to see you here tonight."

"I didn't think so either, but I didn't want to be stuck in my room all night."

Merlin looked around the room awkwardly. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom before…

"Have you met my friend, Merlin?"

Arthur looked up, his smile dropping instantly.

"Yes," he said, slowly, "we've… been acquainted."

Morgana looked questioningly from Arthur's suddenly stiff expression to Merlin's narrowed eyes.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Yes," Arthur said, dryly, "This abomination sitting here."

"That's a big word," Merlin retorted, "Sure you know what it means?"

"It means stop talking to my cousin. She doesn't need to be soiled by associating with the likes of you."

"Oh, so because you're the prince you think you can dictate who other people can be friends with now, is that it?"

"You have no right to talk to me the way that you did."

"You have no right to treat people like they're obligated to give you everything you want. You haven't deserved anything, you know that? Your title means nothing."

Arthur got up from the chair, his fists clenched.

"You make me so angry," he growled.

"Why? Because I'm right?"

"Arthur, sit down," Morgana instructed, and the boy sat down icily, still glaring daggers at Merlin. "What is the matter with both of you?"

"Your cousin is a prat." Merlin snarled.

"Your friend is a big-eared dimwit."

"Very mature guys," Morgana sighed, rolling her eyes. "What is wrong with you two?"

"It doesn't matter," Merlin downed his drink, grimacing a little, "I'm leaving now, anyway. I'm really sorry about this, Morgana."

She gave him a weak smile, and as he walked away from the table he heard her chastising Arthur. He quickly found Gwen and Gwaine, informed them that he was leaving, and headed out of the loud room into the cool night.

She was his _cousin. _Merlin thought Morgana was like him… that she too wasn't taken in by the alluring facade of royalty. But she practically _was _royalty. She wasn't Arthur's first cousin… Uther had no siblings, and Igraine's brother Agravaine had no children, but whatever relation she had to Arthur, it was clear that they were close. Which meant - in Sorsbrooke, at least - Merlin really was alone in his hatred for Arthur. Well, until he found that person in his Art History class who had magic, of course.

Merlin wasn't quite sure why Arthur Pendragon evoked such a vehement reaction from him. It was a combination of reasons, he supposed. Arthur was the son of the man who had countless people of his kind - not to mention his own father - killed. Surely, that itself was a big enough reason to hate the brat? But on top of that, the royal ass assumed that everyone was supposed to act like they were his personal servants… and he called Merlin a big-eared dimwit.

Just thinking about him made Merlin flustered. But the annoying part was that it wasn't just out of anger.

While talking to his mother on the phone, he'd mentioned his run-in with the prince. While his mother had made no comment about his confrontation, she had asked, very curiously, what he really looked liked. The first two words that popped into Merlin's mind were 'distressingly attractive'. But after the story he had just told, he wasn't about to confess to his mother that he had never met anyone quite so good-looking.

"He's alright," he'd said.

He had seen pictures of Arthur in newspapers and magazines, but he'd always assumed they were photoshopped. There was no way the crown prince had money, power _and _a jawline so perfect it would make Michelangelo's David jealous. But the moment Arthur had walked into that stupid cafe, with his idiotic golden hair and those large, unguarded azure eyes, Merlin realized that the photographs did lie… the prince wasn't attractive. He was _gorgeous_. So much so that his looks made Merlin even angrier than his personality did… which was saying something.

Merlin stumbled into his dorm, the alcohol suddenly hitting him with all the force it could muster. He fumbled in his pockets for the keys to his room, his fingers feeling nothing but cloth. He groaned. He couldn't have left the keys at the party, could he? Well he wasn't about to go back. Not with that dunderhead still there.

He glanced aimlessly down the darkened corridor. It was empty. Everyone was either at a party, or else asleep or studying in their rooms.

He'd be alright.

Quietly, he mumbled a few words, letting the magic pass from his abdomen, right through his arms. The familiar tingle went through his fingertips and he could feel that coolness that tickled his eyes whenever they turned golden. The instant the lock clicked open, the tingle disappeared, leaving him slightly drained as it always did. He reached for the door handle.

"What did you just do?"

Merlin turned around, alarmed, his heart in his throat. An old man with shoulder length white hair wearing an oversized blue suit had just appeared in the corridor and was staring at Merlin with indignation.

Merlin felt a cold sweat break out across the back of his neck.

It couldn't be.

Not here. Not so soon. Not before he'd even begun.

"I… nothing… I was just…"

"You were doing magic!" The man insisted, pointing at the door which was now ajar, "You opened that door! Where did you learn that spell?"

"I…"

Merlin's heart was thundering so hard in his chest he could barely hear his own voice.

"Stop being so nervous. I'm not going to get you in trouble," the man huffed, "I just want to know where you learnt magic."

"I was born with it," Merlin said, his voice strangled. "I learnt a few spells off the internet."

"Can you open bigger locks with that spell?"

"No sir."

The man gave him a peculiar look. "Still. That's quite impressive. It's not easy to open a locked door like that."

Merlin remained silent, his heart-rate slowing down. The man didn't seem angry, he just seemed… odd.

"You have a talent boy. What's your name?"

"Will." Merlin said, quickly.

The man frowned. "I said I wouldn't get you in trouble. What's your real name?"

"What makes you so sure that isn't my real name?"

"Well if it is, then I'm going to have to go back on my promise and get you in trouble for breaking into…" The man turned towards the door and read out the two names, written in block letters on colourful construction paper, that had been stuck across it, "… Merlin and Gwaine's room."

"My name is Merlin," he mumbled, defeated.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Are you Hunith's son?"

"Yes." Merlin frowned, "Do you know my mother?"

"I used to… quite well. I knew your father too. We used to meet all the time at the society. Your father…. he didn't have magic, but was he was a great advocate for preserving the magical artefacts. Wonderful work. Your mother, however, was the true hero. She protested against the new laws with a persistence and energy I didn't know humans were capable of." He smiled, "You must have already been born then."

"Yeah," Merlin said, uncertainly tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, "I was two when the law was passed."

"Your powers are quite extraordinary," the man continued. "With formal training you would be…"

He cocked his head slightly to the side and looked at Merlin, his gray eyes wide and expressive, "Would you like me to teach you?"

"Huh?"

"Magic… would you like to learn magic?"

"I'm sorry…" Merlin stammered, "But who are you?"

"Oh I'm sorry," the man shook his head, sending his hair flying, "I am Professor Oldman. Gaius. You can call me Gaius."

"What do you teach?"

"Biology. I just stopped off at your dorm to drop off something for a student. That boy, Nikolai. Do you know him? Silly boy. Always forgetting his laptop in the classroom. That's irrelevant. What do you say, Merlin?"

"I…"

Since his childhood, Merlin's mother had warned him to talk about his magic as little as possible, even around people who knew his secret. Yet here was this man, openly talking about magic in the hallway of his dorm, and offering to teach it to him.

"Do you mind if I get back to you?" Merlin asked, his voice wavering. His heart was still hammering from the shock of almost being caught.

"Of course, boy," Gaius smiled and patted him on the back. "But be sure to let me know by next week, otherwise all my one-on-one classes will fill up."

He began walking towards the exit when a thought occurred to him and he turned around.

"Oh and Merlin… I think it goes without saying that this conversation should remain between you and me."

"Yes, professor."

The man smiled and Merlin hurried into his room, his head spinning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

_Dear Ares, _

_ To be completely honest, your news thrilled me. It makes me feel loads better knowing you're probably having a similar experience somewhere in the world. _

_How has uni been for you till now? _

_ Things have been pretty good with me so far (touch wood). The lessons are fantastic, for one. The university I'm going to is one of those that really encourages freedom, so I get to study a whole range of things, not just the thing I want to major in. My roommate is hilarious, and I've already met some really sweet people, which is wonderful. I mean, currently we're still at the phase where we're really polite to each other and there's always a slight awkwardness between us, but it's only been a few days… hopefully in the next few weeks we'll get more comfortable with each other. _

_ There is one problem, though. I was actually wondering if you could give me some advice? Because you've mentioned dealing with a lot of awful people. And while I've dealt with my fair share of douchebags, I've never come across one like this. Basically, there's this guy that goes to my school and he's a complete arsehole. He's the whole gamut - obnoxious, arrogant, shallow. But the worst part is, I feel like I'm the only person who sees what he really is. Everyone else seems to love him! And I know why - they all think they know him (even though they don't) and they've deluded themselves into believing he's god's gift to man. But he's not. He's infuriating and supercilious. You're probably going to tell me to ignore him, and I would… but he keeps showing up everywhere! And I sort of did something really stupid, and now he has it out for me. I know it's partly my fault, but do you have any advice? He really irks me, and I feel like if I don't find a way to deal with my anger I'm going to end up doing something stupid. And trust me, things would not go well for me if I accidentally punch him in the face. _

_Ugh. Just thinking about him gets me all riled up. I wish you went to my university instead. I would like that so much better. Anyway… _

_ I'm sure it a comforting thought - to believe that everything happens for a reason. I wish I believed it, but I just can't. Maybe one day I'll tell you why. _

_ Ares, you are a dollophead. If there's one thing I've learnt in my short eighteen years of existence, it's that you shouldn't let people get to you. People will say all sorts of things about you - they will call you odd, they will call you a freak… they will say the worst possible things because they can't understand you. But the trick is to ignore them. Because you are a great guy, Ares. You are absolutely fantastic, and I would hate it if you believed otherwise. _

_ I wish my story about my pen name was as good as yours. It's not, unfortunately. But anyway, here's what happened…_

Arthur quickly closed the web browser as a boy sat down next to him.

"You Arthur Pendragon?" He asked, scratching his stubbled chin.

"Yes…" Arthur drawled, disinterestedly, "and you are?"

"Theon. Can you believe we got class on a Friday?"

Arthur grunted in response. He had spent all of the day before complaining to Percival about his schedule. The novel analysis lecture which was mandatory for all first years obviously hadn't been able fit everyone into one class, so they created a system where different batches met on different days of the week. Arthur had been hoping to be put in the one which met on Monday. He had only one lesson that day, which meant that he'd be able to get the damn thing over with right in the beginning of the week. But instead he'd been put in the Friday morning class… a day he was otherwise lecture-free. So instead of having Fridays off to go down to Reglin with Kay and Elyan, he was being forced to wake up at eight in the morning and _read. _Things couldn't get any worse.

"Hi, Merlin!"

Or maybe they could.

Arthur gritted his teeth as Theon waved to the pale, scrawny boy that had just walked in. The boy waved back, grinning a dorky grin that brought out a dimple in his right cheek. As expected, he ignored Arthur and walked over to the other side of the room.

_He _was in this batch? Arthur couldn't stop from emitting a low growl. Of all the damn batches he could have been in, he was in _Arthur's_ batch. Maybe Emrys was right. Maybe there wasn't a god. No god would put him through this.

"That kid's in my dorm," Theon said, grinning, showing off a set of chipped teeth. "He's a cool guy."

"I'm sure," Arthur replied dryly.

"Dunno why he's sitting all he way there, though."

_I can take a guess_, Arthur thought. But he remained silent. Instead, he looked around the classroom and noticed with alarm that everyone - except for that Merlin - was sitting on his side of the lecture hall, staring eagerly at him. He suddenly became extremely awkward for so unknowingly finding himself in the spotlight, but he also felt a sense of relief. A sense of relief that that… stunt… Merlin had pulled the other day at 'Wrap and Roll' hadn't affected his popularity like he thought it would.

Maybe things wouldn't turn out so terrible after all.

He turned to look at Merlin, sitting by himself amidst the gathering of empty seats at the end of the lecture hall and sent him a smug look which he obviously didn't see. He was so… ungainly. How could a boy like him possibly have had the guts to come up and talk to Arthur like that? And then continue talking to him like that at that party? Sure it was… brave. But it made Arthur's blood boil.

Merlin had blamed him for acting like he was entitled to perks. Of course he was entitled to perks. He was the prince. That stupid, gangly buffoon clearly had no idea of the amount of training Arthur was forced to go through every day so that he could one day dedicate his life to serving other people.

_You haven't done anything for the people yet, _a small voice in his head that sounded oddly like Morgana, chided, _maybe Merlin has a point._ As usual, Arthur ignored it. Who cared about that nerdy thing anyway? His attempt at ruining Arthur's reputation hadn't worked, and all those hurtful things he had said to Arthur hadn't affected him at all. That was the beauty of being prince, Arthur thought, he knew he was better off than everyone else, so such insults just bounced off him. Plus, who cared what Mickey Mouse ears thought anyway?

The people around Arthur began asking him ernest questions about his favourite books and authors, and he answered them politely. He wanted nothing more than to get back to reading his latest email from Emrys, but he knew he shouldn't be pushing away people who wanted to be friends with him. He had already found a small group of fun guys to hang out with - Leon, from his politics class had introduced him to two very cool second years, Elyan and Kay. All three of them were on the football team and Kay even worked part time as a DJ. But given his track record, Arthur knew he had to keep his options open. He had always been friends with guys like Elyan and Kay, and things had always turned out the same way. With betrayal and Arthur getting angry.

Arthur knew that he'd be better off being friends with people who didn't have that guileful streak in them, but had become so used to pushing 'un-cool' people away with his masquerade of ceaseless nonchalance. It wasn't his fault… not completely. It was his father that had always encouraged such affected aloofness. But aloofness, Arthur knew, didn't make him any friends… it just created more 'fans'.

Yes, there was Morgana, but she had been acting strange too. She'd been avoiding his calls and when he finally grabbed hold of her in the party the night before, she had seemed normal, until he asked about her classes and she suddenly began acting agitated and left. Arthur felt like he was overthinking it… maybe she had just remembered she had a lot of homework like she'd said when she excused herself. She could have been avoiding his calls because she was having a rough few weeks, or because she just didn't check her phone very often…

It could be anything, really. But it definitely wasn't the way Arthur pictured their reunion happening.

* * *

"Professor?" Merlin pushed open the door and peered into the room.

Gaius was sitting in an armchair by the window reading a book, half-moon glasses perched on his nose. He looked up as Merlin walked into the room.

"Ah, Merlin!" He said, smiling, "How have you been?"

"Very good, professor."

"Excellent. Please… sit down." He pointed to the chairs by the desk and Merlin spun one around, so that it faced Gaius's armchair, and sat down gingerly.

"I've… decided to take up your offer," he said, nervously, "I'd be very grateful if you could teach me magic."

Merlin had spent all day considering Gaius's proposal, and had finally called up his mother for advice.

"Do you know a man named Gaius?" he had blurted out when she answered the phone.

"It's good to hear from you too, Merlin," she replied laughing.

She had then proceeded to tell him the whole story. Gaius had been a very 'dear friend' of her and his father. They had all been members of the 'Society of the Study of Magical Arts' and he'd even played a big role in helping Hunith, Galahad and baby Merlin escape to Ealdor when Uther was sending men out to kill people who either had or supported magic. They had fallen out of touch, however, because Gaius had remained a very faithful friend to the King. He may have helped a lot of people escape Camelot, but he had stayed by the King's side and given up studying and practicing magic, and Hunith could never wrap her head around that.

"Uther trusts his judgement, but during the Great Purge he never tried very hard to stop him." Hunith confessed, "Though he helped us escape, I was very sore after your father's death, and was furious with him for being a trusted ally of the man who killed him. But he is a good man. If it wasn't for him, both you and I would be dead."

"But can I trust him?" Merlin had asked, worriedly.

"Yes. He's changed since then. He's still friends with Uther, but you can see that he repents not trying harder to prevent the law from being passed. He's seen what Uther can do… Honestly, I think him offering to teach you magic is sort of his way of trying to start making things right again."

Merlin had still been uncertain, but he knew that he wouldn't get an opportunity like this ever again. Besides, his mother said he could be trusted. So after his morning novel-analysis lesson, he'd headed straight to Gaius's office.

Gaius smiled. "Wonderful. I have a free spot… wednesdays at three. Are you free then?"

"That would work."

"Brilliant. We will tell people biology didn't fit on your schedule, but you were eager to learn it as soon as possible, so you came to me and I agreed to coach you one-on-one. Understood?"

"Yes, professor."

Gaius eyed him, strangely. "Don't look so nervous, boy. I'm not going to bite you. Would you like some tea?"

Merlin hesitated but then nodded. Gaius made him oddly uncomfortable, but he had a question he really wanted to ask the man. "Two teaspoons of sugar, please."

The old man got up and walked over to the desk where a kettle and two cups were kept, as if waiting for Merlin's arrival.

"Did you have any classes this morning?" Gaius asked conversationally, as he poured tea in both the cups.

"Uh… yes, I had novel-analysis."

"Are you liking it?"

"It's alright."

Gaius gave him a sympathetic half-smile. "You don't like your professor?"

"No, she's very good. It's the people in my class…" He sighed. "Arthur Pendragon is in my class, so most of the kids were just sitting there, fawning over him instead of participating in the class discussion. It was extremely distracting."

Gaius nodded, placing a cup besides Merlin. "I can see how that would be irritating."

"It would have been less irritating if he wasn't such a giant ass…"

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, but Gaius burst out laughing, the cup in his hand shaking precariously.

"I've known the prince since he was a boy," he said, when his laughter subsided. He sat back down on his arm chair and placed his tea carefully on a little table next to him. "And I agree. He is a little bit of a spoiled brat."

Merlin scoffed, partly out of agreement and partly out of relief, and took a sip of his tea. The scalding liquid burnt his tongue and he quickly placed the cup back on his desk, sloshing some of it onto the wood.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He began, but Gaius waved it off.

"It happens."

Gaius was watching him with interest, and Merlin quickly turned to look at his shoes.

"Do you have any napkins? I'll…"

"Don't worry about it."

The way the old man was staring at him, Merlin felt like he could see into his soul.

"But Arthur isn't a bad boy, you know." Gaius continued, as if forgetting the tea-spilling intervention. "He's… lost. He's conflicted. So much is forced down his throat every single day. Other people's opinions, other people's expectations… Everyone telling him what to do and what to believe. So, of course, he acts out. He clings to the advantage of his title and tries to do what he's expected to do. But he is a good lad. And one day he'll be a great king."

Merlin snorted, "Yeah. We'll see about that."

Gaius took a sip of his tea, still staring intently at Merlin. "Is there something you want to ask me?" He asked.

Merlin bit his lip. "Yes, actually."

"Well, don't be afraid. What is it?"

"I…" Merlin took a deep breath. "I wanted to know about my father. You said you knew him. What… was he like?"

Merlin had heard several stories about Balinor from Hunith, but it was never enough. For one, he knew his mother censored her stories, preventing him from knowing the true horrors that led to his father's death. But he wanted to know. He _needed _to know. And not just that... he needed to know _everything_. Even though he had been only two years old when his father died, Merlin felt guilty for not remembering him. Which is why he wanted to make up for it by learning everything he could about the man who had given him life.

"Balinor was… kind," Gaius said, looking pensively outside the window. "He was aggressive and determined, but he was selfless. Always thinking about others. When his first wife - Nim - died, leaving him to care for Galahad by himself, he was destroyed. But he dedicated himself to his son and to the collection and study of ancient magic artefacts, never once showing how much pain he felt at her demise. When he married your mother and she began caring for Galahad as well, he threw himself even more into the study of magic and would travel around Albion on a constant quest to discover old magical relics. When Uther tried to have them destroyed during the Great Purge, he… he stood up to him. He tried to protect the museums, the…" Gaius stopped, his breath hitching.

He turned back to Merlin, clearing his throat. "You should probably head on out now. I have a meeting with the headmaster. I'll see you on wednesday."

* * *

**Please review, they make my whole day so much better :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you SO much for the reviews, follows and favourites! They honestly make me so happy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Time passed.

True to it's enigmatic nature, it seemed to go both, too fast and too slowly. Merlin found himself slipping easily into life at Sorsbrooke, getting deeply involved in student life and his studies, and keeping himself busy enough to avoid thinking about the trickles of that hollow feeling of detachment that had followed him from Ealdor.

He grew extremely fond of Gwaine. The boy seemed to take a great liking to Merlin as well, and soon they were behaving like they had known each other for years. Their room became a warm, comfortable place that did justice to it's status as make-shift home.

His friendship with Gwen blossomed as well, and Merlin spent almost every night studying and watching old, crappy music videos with her. He even befriended a boy from one of his history classes called Lancelot (Lance, for short) who quickly integrated himself into their little group. Every Thursday night he would turn up at Merlin's dorm with a bag full of sweets, and they would binge-watch episodes of 'House'.

Merlin met with Gaius every wednesday for his magic lessons, and was delighted to discover that his powers were becoming stronger at an extremely fast rate. Initially, he was worried he'd have a harder time trying to hide them, but he found that as he got more powerful, he also developed better control of them. Gaius trained him to use his emotions to constrain and strengthen the spells, which helped prevent spurts of magic from erratically bursting out whenever he felt overwhelming emotion.

His weekends were alternately packed with events and completely empty, allowing him to relax and bide his time writing poetry, watching shows and downloading new albums. Even the snotty prince wasn't a problem anymore. Though he and Arthur had novel-analysis together, they also had a silent agreement to ignore each other, and the large student body certainly helped keep them apart.

Merlin still felt like he didn't completely belong, but the feeling had grown less since he left Ealdor, which led him to believe he was on the right path. Yet there were days when he wondered if that sense of being an alien in a world of humans was an unshakable part of his personality. It was only when he got his letters from Ares when he knew this wasn't true.

It was when he wrote or received a letter from Ares when he felt like he belonged.

And as his connect with Ares grew even deeper, Merlin tried to explain that feeling to himself. Initially, he assumed it was because Ares represented a semblance of stability in his inconsistent surroundings. His letters had been there for Merlin through his last few months of sixth form, and there were still there, helping him get through university. Every Monday he would get a new letter from him, and it was always as gratifying as the last one. Despite the fact that receiving a new letter from the boy still made Merlin's heart pound in his chest, and his stories and musings still had Merlin breathless at every word, he staunchly assumed what they had between them was nothing more than the sweet satisfaction of an unwavering friendship.

Until the ice cream incident.

It took place about a month and a half into his first term. Merlin was studying in the library when Gwaine came running in, laughing hysterically.

"You will not believe what happened!" He gasped, "The ice cream machine in Stevens broke and it's spilling ice cream _everywhere. _It's spraying like a fountain! There are people walking around campus with ice cream all over them, it's hilarious!"

Merlin had dashed outside with Gwaine and sure enough, there were people hurrying towards their dorms with vanilla ice cream running down their faces, in their hair, and all over their clothes. Merlin and Gwaine had even gone over to Stevens, but by then the machine had been stopped. However, the novelty of the incident took a while to wear off and students didn't stop talking about it for days. It spawned a series of awful jokes and the school newspaper had a whole article about it, dubbing it 'The Great Ice Cream Explosion of 2013'.

Merlin had written eagerly to Ares, describing the incident in as much detail as he could, positive that he would be extremely amused by it. However, Merlin found himself frightfully surprised to find an email from Ares in his inbox the very next day. He opened it, his heart racing in his chest, to find only one line.

_Do you go to Sorsbrooke?_

* * *

"Merlin!"

Merlin looked up from his books, disoriented.

"Hmm?"

Gwaine was frowning at him from across the room. "Could you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Drumming your fingers against the desk. It's really distracting."

Merlin stared down at his fingers, unaware of the noise they had been making moments earlier.

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled.

Gwaine turned back to the charcoal portrait he was working on, and Merlin closed his books with a sigh, knowing that despite staring at them for forty minutes not a single word had registered in his mind. Instead, he listened to the sound of charcoal scraping paper, his stomach twisting.

Ares went to Sorsbrooke.

_Ares. _

The boy he'd been writing to for months. The boy he'd grown to trust. Grown to…

Merlin didn't know what it was. He didn't know Ares, but he felt like he _knew _him. And the moment he received that one line response to his email confessing he went to Sorsbrooke… the moment he read those words: _I go to Sorsbrooke too, _Merlin realized that even after months of receiving letters from him, his heart still danced in his chest when he got a new one. His letters made him laugh and tear up. They filled him with all kinds of feelings he'd never felt before. The boy had some sort of grip on him that no one else had ever had.

And Merlin might have seen him in person. He might even be friends with him. He could be _anyone_. He could be Theon, or Henry, or… or Gwaine.

"Hey Merlin, how do you spell thorough?"

It probably wasn't Gwaine.

"t-h-o-r-o-u-g-h"

"Thanks."

Merlin rolled a pencil distractedly through his fingers. He could have talked to him. He could have touched his shoulder. He could have eaten a meal with him… he could have stared into his eyes and not realized that he was the same boy he loved so much.

The concept was oddly frightening.

"What's with you?"

Gwaine had moved so that he was sitting sideways on his desk chair, his attractive features furrowed with concern.

"It's nothing." Merlin said, dully.

"It's obviously something." Gwaine put down his stick of charcoal and folded his arms on the back of the chair. "What's going on?"

Merlin tried to rack his brain for an excuse. He could say that he hadn't got much sleep, that always seemed to wo…

"It is about those emails you keep getting?"

Merlin's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"W..what emails?" he stammered.

"You know. The ones that you read for like an hour on Monday evenings." Gwaine smirked, "You think I didn't notice? You always get all… cheerful when you read those." He grinned. "I know you said you were reading an online story that gets updated every week, but I always hear the 'ding' from your email."

Merlin blushed, and Gwaine smiled a half-smile he seemed to reserve only for Merlin.

"Alright," Merlin admitted, "It's an email. I…" He could feel the tips of his ears getting hotter. "I have a pen pal."

Now it was Gwaine's turn to get surprised. "A pen pal? I thought you had a… girlfriend back at home, or something."

"No. He's a guy. I've… I've never met him. I don't even know his name. He uses a pen name. He found me through this site called 'The Raven'."

"Oh yeah… I've heard of that."

"Well he found me through that. I didn't actually upload a profile, my friend made one… it's a long story. But yeah. So we've been writing to each other for months and uh… I just found out that he goes to Sorsbrooke too."

Gwaine's eyes widened. "Woah!" he gasped, "No way!"

"He just told me last night, and I… don't know what to do."

"You really had no idea?"

"None at all!"

"So… you have no idea what he looks like or what his real name is?"

"Nope."

"So he could be anyone? He could be… Lancelot?"

"Yup."

"Kay?"

"Yup."

"Oh my god!" Gwaine grinned, gleefully. "That is so weird."

"I know!"

Merlin slumped onto his desk, staring unseeingly at the drawing Gwaine had given him of two intertwined dragons that he had hung up on the wall above his desk light.

"What do I say to him, Gwaine?" He asked pleadingly, turning to face his roommate.

Gwaine shrugged, "You just want to continue this.. thing that you're doing, right? Then just forget about it. Just continue writing to him the way you've always done."

Merlin bit his lip, and seeing the look in his eyes, Gwaine's smile suddenly dropped.

"I don't know if I can do that," Merlin admitted, "I mean. He's _here. _He's so close."

Gwaine's expression was suddenly unreadable. Merlin squirmed in his chair.

"I like him Gwaine. I like him a lot."

"Then wouldn't it be better if you didn't know who he was? Wouldn't that sort of… ruin it?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin made a noncommittal gesture and sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. But the thing is… I know him so intimately, I think we're past the point where things like looks, and who we're friends with… and superficial stuff like that, matters. I know who he is deep inside. That's what I like about him. Everything else is just… there."

Gwaine gave him a wobbly smile. "Man. You really like this guy. You know me in person, how come you don't like me so much?"

"Maybe I would if you stopped eating all the brownies my mom sends me from home." He joked.

Gwaine laughed. "Well," he said finally, "whatever your gut tells you to do, I'm sure it's the right decision."

Merlin's gut was confused by his brain which was telling him a hundred different things, but he forced a smile and said, "Thanks Gwaine."

"Now shut up," Gwaine instructed, "I have to finish this piece."

He turned back to his drawing and the room fell into silence again, excluding the scratching of charcoal against paper.

"Gwaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone about this, alright?"

"Obviously not."

* * *

**Please review! **


	12. Chapter 12

**hdfjsjkdhfskd thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favourites! Particularly those of you who comment fairly ****regularly, thank you so much :) Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Arthur knocked on the door and rocked anxiously on the balls of his feet, waiting for it to open. A girl in a towel walked casually by, almost as if she were strolling through a park, and gave him a coquettish smile. He smiled awkwardly in return. As she disappeared into her room, three boys talking in hushed whispers passed him, unaware of who he was. Arthur hurriedly knocked on the door again.

It finally opened, and a gawky girl with long, black tresses stood in the doorway, staring open-mouthedly at him with wide, bespectacled brown eyes.

"Hi," Arthur forced a smile, "you must be Morgana's roommate. Is she there?"

"Oh," The girl blushed. "Yeah she's just gone to the bathroom. She'll be back in a minute."

For a second neither of them moved - Arthur remained fidgeting in the narrow hallway as the girl continued gaping at him from inside the room.

"Oh, sorry," she said, abruptly, "would you like to wait inside?"

"That would be nice, thank you." Arthur said, grinning.

She let out what sounded like a whimper and stepped to the side. Arthur walked in and stopped in the center of the room, swinging his arms, unsure of what to do next. He considered pulling out his phone and pretending to answer a text message, but instead he swept his gaze around the room, purposefully avoiding eye-contact with the embarrassed girl.

"You're a Billy Joel fan!" he proclaimed suddenly, spotting a 'The Stranger' poster above a bed.

"That's Morgana's." The girl admitted, shyly.

"Oh." Arthur mentally slapped himself. Breaking Bad and Maroon 5 posters covered every inch of that wall and the bed had Toy Story bed sheets. Obviously that side was Morgana's.

"I like him too, though." The girl piped up, "Movin' Out is my favourite of his."

"I like Uptown Girl. But Movin' Out is a close second. No wait… the Stranger is good too." Arthur gave her a wan smile, "So many good songs, huh?"

She nodded eagerly. "He's great."

They fell into a claustrophobic silence again.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, finally, "I didn't catch your name."

"Gwen." She said, quickly, outstretching her hand. "Guinevere… but you can call me Gwen."

He clasped her clammy hand. "Why? Guinevere is such a pretty name."

Gwen looked like she was about to faint when the door slammed open and Morgana walked in.

"There you are." Arthur said, dropping Gwen's hand and grinning at his cousin.

Morgana gave him a weak smile. "Hey you."

He grabbed her into a hug. Gwen, looking even more awkward - a feat which Arthur didn't think was physically possible - skittered to her side of the room, picked up a text-book and pretended to study.

"You busy?" Arthur asked Morgana as they separated.

"A little." Morgana said, smiling, "But I always have time for you, _your majesty_."

He stuck his tongue out at her and she pointed towards her bed. They walked over to it and sat down on either side of it, facing each other.

"What's up?"

"I like your room, by the way." Arthur said, gesturing around.

"Thank you. It's been almost two months and this is the first time you're seeing it." She laughed. "You are such a prat."

He grinned.

"So what is this problem you wanted to tell me about?" She asked, pulling out a candy bar from the folds of her jacket and slowly peeling the wrapper away.

Arthur sent a quick, cautious look in Gwen's direction and dropped his voice.

"So remember that pen pal I told you about? Emrys?"

"Hmm?"

"Alright so, I found this out a few weeks ago… she goes here."

"What?"

"She goes here. To Sorsbrooke."

Morgana arched a slender eyebrow. "Really?"

"Can you believe it?" Arthur shook his head, looking out the window at the cloudless, blue sky. "I mean.. she's _here. _Like… she's been _here _all along. I could know her. She could be in one of my classes, or in my dorm. She could be that girl who keeps sitting down on the table next to me in Stevens. She could be anybody… bloody hell, Morgana, what do I do? This is killing me!"

Morgana furrowed her brow. "You've known this for a few weeks now?" she asked, slowly.

Arthur nodded.

"Then why haven't you asked her to meet you yet?"

He let out a short laugh and then saw the stony look in her eye. "What? You're serious?" he stared at her, "Morgana… I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"I… I mean," he fumbled, "what if… there's something she isn't telling me?" _What if she knows who I am and hates me_ "What if she's been lying to me? You know… what if… what if she's not a student? What if she goes here _as a professor? _Huh? I certainly can't date her then…" his voice faded away and he bit his lip in alarm, realizing that he had let too much slip. But as he turned hesitantly towards Morgana he found her with that now-familiar glazed look in her eye. His heart sank.

"Morgana?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you Ok?"

She twitched slightly. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I… uh… just remembered. I have to meet Professor Septus."

"Now?" Arthur gave her a uneasy look, "That guy is creepy, Morgana."

She glared at him. "He's just giving me lessons, Arthur. It's not like I'm having it off with him."

"I know, but you're always in his office."

"Because unlike you," she spat, "I'm actually interested in learning."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but she stood up, silencing him. "You should go."

Arthur followed suit and stood up, trying to hide the disappointment on his face.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, apologetically. "I just… I feel like we haven't spent enough time together since I've come here. I miss you."

She smiled, and he noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.

"We will," she promised, "soon."

She led him to the door of the room and Arthur tried to wave goodbye to Gwen, but Morgana silently shut it before he could get another word in.

She wasn't the same girl he'd grown up with, Arthur knew that for sure now. She was distant and distracted. She wasn't the same Morgana he could be silly with, the one who used to play sword-fighting and go on adventure trips in the woods around the castle with him. She wasn't _his _Morgana. No, this Morgana was… absent. A shell of the girl she used to be.

He stood there for a minute staring at the door of her room, wondering what went wrong. He'd tried to ask her so many times but she always reacted the same way - by recoiling.

He walked dejectedly back to his suite, waved to Percival who was reading in the living room and locked himself in his room. He sat back down at his computer.

If only he knew Emrys in person, he thought staring at the screen, then maybe he wouldn't feel so damn alone.

His heart began racing as he thought about it.

Morgana had a point. He _could _meet Emrys. She did go here, after all.

Maybe her opinion of him would change when she found out who he really was, but maybe not. After all, they had already formed a pretty solid relationship.

What was life without a little risk anyway? After all, the last risk he had taken had led him to Emrys. Maybe… well, maybe this was the way things were supposed to be.

Before he knew it, Arthur had typed it out… a short, to-the-point message from Ares to Emrys. An invitation for her to either thrill him to bits or completely destroy him.

_Here goes,_ he thought, his mind whirring. Taking a deep breath he clicked send and, in an instant, it was gone.

* * *

_Dear Emrys, _

_I can't bear it any more. Every girl that passes me by, every girl that smiles at me… I can't help but wonder if she's you. I know I was the one who insisted we do this whole… mysterious thing, but honestly, knowing that you're here… knowing that you are so close… I don't think I can go back to the way things were before. Not when you could be sitting in front of me in class, or on the table next to me in the dining halls. _

_I would like to meet you. It's fine if you don't want to. Honestly, I will completely understand. But if you do… what do you say to meeting at 'The Bean' at ten on Friday? _

_Ares_

* * *

The first time Merlin read the email he choked on the biscuit he was eating. After he finished hacking and drinking three glasses of water, he read the email again. And again. And then a fourth time.

He closed the web page, and then re-loaded it and logged into 5kmail again just to make sure he hadn't dreamt it.

It was still there, in all it's glory. Once again, Ares had managed to catch him completely off-guard.

For the past few weeks their correspondence had gone back to normal. Neither of them had said another word about how they were both in the same university, and the emails came and went as they always did. Yet, Merlin hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. He'd taken to daydreaming, and tried to imagine every person who passed him as being Ares. As far as the letters were concerned, however, he was lulled back into the familiar routine.

Then came this one, and threw everything for a spin. Again.

He wanted to meet.

Ares wanted to meet him.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

Merlin had been distracted through all of his day's lectures, going through the motions of daily life robotically as he waited to catch hold of Gwaine. His roommate was the only one he could talk to about this.

And he really needed someone to talk to.

"Are you alright?" Gwen had asked him at lunch, when he was staring out of the window, chewing on a carrot.

"Of course!" He'd said, brightly.

She'd known something was going on with him, but she didn't ask, and Merlin didn't want to share. Gwaine had been very respectful… for the most part. Sure, in the beginning he'd asked a thousand and one questions about Ares and their cyber relationship, but when Merlin hadn't been very forthcoming with his answers, Gwaine had graciously let it slide. Merlin didn't think he'd be quite so lucky if Lancelot or Gwen got to know about it.

It was late in the evening when he burst through the door of his room and caught Gwaine in the middle of changing, a shirt poised over his head. The boy froze, knowing something was wrong from the panicked, wide-eyed look Merlin gave him.

"Christ Merlin, what is it?"

"Ares wants to meet me!" He cried, dropping his bag to the floor of their room.

Gwaine was speechless for a second, clearly struggling with his words.

"That's great! Isn't that what you wanted?" He asked, pulling the shirt on, causing his abs to disappear under the light blue fabric.

"I don't know what I want." Merlin said, strangled. "I mean, I want to meet him… more than anything. But… I mean. I'm nervous. What if I make a fool of myself?"

"Merlin, come on. You're…"

"That's not the biggest problem though," Merlin said quickly, cutting him off. "There's something else."

"What?"

"He thinks I'm a girl."

There was stunned silence for a second, and then Gwaine burst out laughing, his well-toned shoulders heaving up and down as he doubled over.

"Seriously?" he gasped.

"It's not funny, Gwaine," Merlin whined, knowing full-well just how hilarious it really was.

Merlin would have been laughing the loudest if it didn't muddle his brain that, for all the months he'd been writing to Ares, the boy thought he was a girl. Surely he'd mentioned _somewhere_ that he was a guy? He had spent the whole day thinking back on past emails from him and things were suddenly starting to make sense. It explained why Ares had been so confused to discover that Merlin's roommate was a boy, for one. Surely Merlin must have mentioned not being female, despite the fact that writing in first person didn't require him to indicate his gender? Merlin had then begun to wonder if Ares was, perhaps, a girl… but he recalled him frequently starting stories about his childhood with 'when I was a boy…'. So Merlin figured, unless Ares had had a sex-change, he was definitely a boy.

Gwaine was still giggling at the news and Merlin tried to glare at him.

"Oh stop, Gwaine. I can't meet him now, right? I mean… he's expecting a girl."

Gwaine shrugged, a smile still lingering on his face, "It's not like you told him you were a girl, right? I mean… he just made that assumption on his own."

"I guess…" Merlin tapered off, letting out a loud gasp. "Oh my god. The profile. The profile that Will made. It said I was a girl."

Gwaine, who had coerced Merlin into telling him the story of Will and the fake profile, burst into fresh peals of laughter at Merlin's stricken expression. Merlin sat on his bed, arms crossed, giving Gwaine a cold look until he stopped.

"Look Merlin," Gwaine reasoned, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes, "You can explain everything when you meet him. Sure, he's expecting a girl… but he likes you for you, right? I mean, you said yourself… the superficial stuff doesn't matter. It's not like gender matters in a friendship anyway, right?"

Merlin nodded silently, not voicing the fact that he was hoping for a little more than just friendship.

* * *

******Those of you who've seen the movie probably have an idea of what's coming next... :) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you guys so, so much for the reviews! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I really hope you enjoy it :) **

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Gwaine, hurry up." Merlin said, tapping his foot loudly against the leg of his desk. "We're already ten minutes late."

"Calm down." Gwaine said, pulling on his shoes with excruciating slowness. "I thought you said you wanted to be late."

"A _little _late. I don't want wait till I've grown a beard."

"You'd look good with a beard."

"_Gwaine." _

"Hey, don't snap at me!" Gwaine huffed, "I'm doing you a favour. It's not like I _want_ to spend my Friday evening hanging out with you and your cyber boyfriend."

Merlin felt silent, and Gwaine's expression softened.

"I mean…"

"No you're right," Merlin mumbled. "I'm sorry."

But he couldn't stop himself from anxiously pacing the room as Gwaine tied his laces.

_This is it, _he told himself, _tonight's the night_.

Gwaine finally grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and the two of them silently headed out into the cool night air. It was just a few days until the mid-term break, and the air was starting to get that cold sharpness to it. Merlin pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

"Why don't you just zip it up?" Gwaine asked, giving him a curious look.

Merlin shrugged and reluctantly obeyed, not wanting to let Gwaine know that he was avoiding covering up the black shirt he had bought specially for tonight.

Not that Gwaine was unaware of how much time and effort he had spent getting ready for this. Merlin had pretended to be nonchalant about the whole thing - which was a futile affair, given that he had spent the past three days talking about it nonstop - but he couldn't keep himself from constantly preening in the mirror and smoothening his hair. He'd even taken an hour long bath… which was not something he normally did.

Gwaine had smirked and teased him about it, but it was all quite half-hearted. Merlin could understand why. Gwaine was the only one in Sorsbrooke who knew about Ares, and so was forced to listen to Merlin's incessant chatter about his nervousness regarding their meeting - not to mention had to endure his mood swings from excited to panicked - all alone. Merlin was sure he was sick of hearing him talk about Ares by now, even though he hadn't complained even once. Merlin really appreciated it… he knew better than anyone how annoying keeping secrets could be, and he felt bad for putting Gwaine in such a position. He made a mental note to make it up to him some day.

The café loomed in the distance and Merlin suddenly felt a rush of nausea.

"Oh my god, Gwaine." He stopped in his tracks, finally letting his panic show. "Gwaine, I can't do this."

Gwaine gave a small, disbelieving laugh. "What?"

"I can't… I mean… I don't." He bit his lip. "I can't do this. You have to go look in the window for me. Tell me what he looks like."

Gwaine's eyes grew wide. "What? Why?"

"What if he's… covered in boils?" Merlin asked, lamely. "Like big, bulging boils?"

"I thought you said his looks didn't matter."

"They don't! But…" Merlin felt like he was floundering, trying not to drown. "…if he's covered in boils I'd like to be warned before hand."

Gwaine gave him an odd look which was both endearing and pained. "Man, Merlin…" he shook his head, "You owe me one after this."

"I owe you one?" Merlin gave him a small smile, "What about that time I had to pay for those twelve beers you drank in one night?"

Gwaine stared off into the distance, thoughtfully. "Ok," he decided, "We're even."

Merlin let out a laugh despite the fact that his stomach felt like a wet towel being wrung dry. Gwaine bounded up the steps leading to the door of 'The Bean' and Merlin trailed cautiously behind him, pausing at the foot of the steps.

"He said he'd be holding a book called 'The Lionheart'. Do you see him?"

"Hmm." Gwaine peered through the large windows beside the door, "There are two people reading…"

"Is he one of them?"

"No. None of the books are called 'The Lionheart'"

"Oh."

"And both of them are girls."

Merlin groaned. "Well then neither of them are him, are they?"

"I don't know, Merlin." Gwaine smirked, "He thought you were a chick, maybe you made the same mist…"

"He's a guy, alright Gwaine? Just look for him please."

"Geez," Gwaine said defensively, "you don't have to get so worked up about it."

Merlin gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I'm just a little nervous."

_A little nervous _was possibly the biggest understatement of the century. Watching Gwaine search so unhurriedly for Ares was absolute agony.

"Oh wait, there's a person who isn't reading but they have a book with th…" Gwaine turned to Merlin, arching an eyebrow. "'The Lionheart' you said?"

"Yeah."

"I found him."

"Oh my god!" Merlin breathed. "Really? The book says 'The Lionheart'? It's really him?"

Gwaine suddenly had a very uncomfortable look about him. "Yeah… it's him."

"So?" Merlin felt like he had just ingested a marching band. His heart and ears were pounding and his brain felt close to exploding. Why wasn't Gwaine saying anything? "What does he look like? Do you know him?"

"Uh… how have you been getting along with Arthur Pendragon lately?"

_Huh? _

"What?" Merlin asked, his anxiety evaporating for a second, "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Do you still hate him?"

"Is he still an asshole?" Merlin challenged, rolling his eyes. "Why are you bringing him up now? This isn't the ti…" His eyes suddenly got wide and he gasped. "Is it Elyan? Oh my lord, tell me it isn't Elyan."

"No."

Merlin didn't like the pitying look Gwaine was giving him.

"Gwaine?"

"It's Arthur."

"WHAT?"

Merlin dashed up the stairs and stared into the window, unable to believe it. Sure enough, there was Arthur Pendragon with those large, innocent blue eyes and that breathtaking jawline, sitting at a small table in the middle of the café, a book noticeably propped up against the napkin dispenser in front of him. The title of the book stood out prominently against the dull cover. 'The Lionheart', it was unmistakable. The young prince was alternating between glancing around the café and tapping on his cell phone, looking as jittery as Merlin felt.

Merlin turned away from the window, feeling weak.

"Oh my god." He sank down onto a step, holding his head in his hands. "No… there's got to be some mistake. There has to be. There is _no way _my Ares is Arthur Pendragon. Nope. There is no way."

"Well…" Gwaine shrugged, "You don't really know him. Arthur, I mean. Maybe if you did…"

"I know him enough!" Merlin said, gesturing violently towards the café, "and he is nothing like Ares! If he was the one writing me those emails, he was obviously…" Merlin struggled to find the words, "…faking it. He was playing a practical joke or something. I don't know. But _he _is not the boy I've been writing to."

He stared helplessly at the door of the café, a million things running through his mind. The things Ares had told him, things he had told Ares…

He had almost told Ares about his magic.

Merlin's mind began spinning as he tried to imagine the implications of Arthur finding out he had magic. Shaking slightly at the images that were now flashing through his mind, Merlin stood up and looked at his roommate determinedly. "Let's go, Gwaine."

Gwaine looked shocked. "Are you serious?"

Merlin didn't make eye-contact with him, but his jaw was set. "Yes. Let's go. I'm sorry I dragged you out here, this was a waste of time."

"You're just going to… leave him?" Gwaine sent the prince another look through the window and turned back to Merlin. "Just waiting here for you?"

Merlin gave a forceful nod. "I mean… I'm not going to march in there and tell Arthur Pendragon that I'm the one who's been writing to him for all these months. He'll just laugh in my face. And it's not like I want to sit and have a coffee with him either."

"But… you said you had a connecti-"

"You were just going to drop me off and go to that party in Crage Hall anyway, right? So why don't you go on ahead and I'll just meet you back in the room?"

Gwaine gave him a uncertain, worried look.

"Alright." He said, hesitantly. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Of course."

So the two of them left 'The Bean' and walked towards Crage Hall in silence. By the time they reached the leaf-strewn pathway leading to the ivy-walled dorm, Merlin had successfully managed to compose himself. Superficially, anyway. Gwaine patted him softly on the back by way of a goodbye and an apology, and the two boys separated. Merlin continued towards his dorm, his thoughts rushing wild and the cold air burning his cheeks. He was halfway there when he let out an angry growl and a string of expletives, and turned back.

The few people who had been sitting in 'The Bean' before had gone and the café was almost deserted except for Arthur and a tall, beefy man at the very back who was engrossed in a novel. Merlin pushed the door open gingerly, but even the slight movement made Arthur jump in his chair. The prince's eager expression, however, melted into a disgusted one when he saw who it was. Merlin tried his hardest not to reflect the expression as he walked over to the counter to place his order.

He watched Arthur curiously out of the corner of his eye, and noticed - with great amusement - how he very theatrically opened his book and faked rapt attention at the words on the page. It was kind of adorable, Merlin mused as he ordered a hot chocolate, how much Arthur hated him. It was almost childish the way the two of them ignored each other in the hallways and in class, but all the while they were eagerly awaiting emails from the other. And as he waited for his order to get ready, Merlin felt a sudden flush of guilt. He hadn't even considered how excited Arthur must have been to meet Emrys. If he had abandoned him like he was planning to, the boy would have probably spent the whole night longingly staring at the doors. Even the royal prat didn't deserve to be so uncomfortably stood up.

The man at the counter gave Merlin his hot chocolate. He had no reason to hold off anymore. He had to do it.

Taking a deep breath and plastering on a fake smile, Merlin walked over to the two-seater table. Arthur's lifted his gaze towards him, his eyes betraying a look of confusion and aversion.

"Can I help you?" he asked, a hint of poison in his voice.

"Yeah, I was wondering if I could join you?" Merlin asked, his fake enthusiasm making him sound far too cheerful.

"No, I'm waiting for someone." Arthur replied bluntly.

"I'll just sit with you until they come, then."

Merlin plonked himself onto the vacant chair while Arthur looked around the almost empty coffee shop in bewilderment.

"Look," he said, struggling to keep his voice level, "I'm actually waiting for an old friend of mine who I haven't seen in a long time. So could you please just sit somewhere else?"

Taking 'The Lionheart' gently out of Arthur's hands and trying to hide his smirk at his lie, Merlin began carelessly flipping through the pages. He had read the book after Ares had recommended it to him, and it had almost moved him to tears. It was one of those rare books where he wouldn't change a thing… every beautiful, poignant word of it was utter perfection. It was hard to believe that the clotpole prince of Camelot had such an exquisite taste in books.

Arthur grabbed the book back from him.

"Do you mind?" he said, hotly.

"I'll get up as soon as your 'old friend' comes, I promise." Merlin said, faking a yawn. "So… The Lionheart. It's a good book."

"I know," Arthur said, icily. "I've read it."

"You can read?"

Arthur glared at him and Merlin mentally berated himself. His brain still hadn't registered the fact that Arthur was Ares; it was hard to make a connection between the exasperating prince and the image he had of that thoughtful, beautiful boy who had been writing to him for so many months. Merlin had always pictured Ares as a brunette with soft gray eyes, glasses, and a throaty laugh, and Arthur was pretty much the opposite of what he had expected to find. But then again, Arthur was probably closer to his image of Ares than Merlin was to his image of Emrys.

"I'm sorry," Merlin mumbled.

Arthur ignored the apology, taking a sip of his coffee. Merlin got a little dizzy picturing the prince reading his emails in a room in the castle.

"So this friend…" Merlin ventured, "When is he getting here?"

"She's a girl. And it's none of your business." Arthur snapped.

"I'm just trying to make conversation." Merlin said, innocently. "So… is she your girlfriend?"

Arthur stared at him speechlessly for a second and then spluttered, "What part of _this is none of your business _did you not understand?"

Merlin shrugged. "Just curious. So many people here are in long-distance relationships. That must be so hard… like, only getting to spend time with your significant other on the phone. I don't think I could do it."

Arthur was watching him with annoyance, his lip curled in disdain.

"I'm single, you know." Merlin offered, as an after-thought.

"Shocker." Arthur said, blandly.

Merlin gritted his teeth to keep back a scathing retort. "What _is _a Lionheart anyway?" he remarked, picking up the book again. His pretence of being completely nonchalant was making Arthur furious… something Merlin was secretly enjoying. "I mean, why do people always assume the lions are the brave ones? The lionesses are the ones that hunt, you know. I mean, if he was really brave he'd be called The Lionessheart. That would be a more appropriate title."

Arthur ignored him, picking up his phone and tapping at the screen again.

"Now, a book about my life… _that_ should be called 'The Lionheart'. Because I'm more like the male lions… I just sit around and wait for people to bring me food."

"'Annoying Tosser Who Can't Take a Hint' would be a more appropriate title." Arthur said, witheringly.

The door swung open and Arthur almost jumped out of his seat as a pale, skinny girl in a black jumpsuit with the most enraged expression Merlin had ever seen walked in, swearing under her breath.

"Is that her?" Merlin asked, brightly, "Well, she looks like an absolute joy to be around."

The girl ignored the two of them and sat by herself in the corner of the café, shoving her earphones in her ears. Arthur slumped lower in his chair.

"I guess it's not her." Merlin said, shaking his head, "What a shame. You two would have made a wonderful couple."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying…"

"Well don't _just say._" Arthur growled, "I've had enough of you. I'm sick of the way you talk to me."

"The way I talk to you? Oh I'm so sorry, _my lord_." Merlin said, his voice suddenly dripping with sarcasm, "How dare commoners like me tell you off for treating people like they're your personal servants?"

"I _do not_ treat people like they are my servants."

"But you believe that you're entitled to perks that the rest of us don't deserve?"

Arthur stared at him in dumbfounded silence. "I am the prince," he spluttered, finally. "You have no idea the kind of shit I have to endure _every single day _because I was born into royalty. I have no choice in _anything._ Everything is pre-decided for me. I barely get to pick my own clothes in the morning. Every day I am told what to do, how to behave, what to say…"

"Aw. Poor little rich boy."

Arthur made a low, guttural sound. "It's ignorance you know?" he said, angrily, "None of you people understand what I have to go through. You just see the glamour of it. The money… the fame." He pointed to the beefy man at the back of the café. "See that guy over there? He's my bodyguard. He literally never leaves me alone."

"It's a small price to pay," Merlin said, dryly. "Some people don't have anything."

"You do, don't you? You've had an education… you have enough money to come here. What have _you_ done with your life?" Arthur asked, a nasty sharpness to his tone. "What is the purpose of a person like you, huh? You're a… cockroach. Worse, even. People like you… they live and they die with this illusion that they have some sort of purpose. So you get lippy… you put down the king and kingdom like you have some sort of authority. You're the ant that thinks he's a dinosaur. You have all these delusions of grandeur but you just sit there dreaming and don't do anything about it. At least I'm on the path to making a difference."

Merlin stood up abruptly, his hands starting to shake. He tried to think of something cruel to say in response, but Arthur had hit his achilles heel. He could feel a painful lump beginning to form in this throat.

"Alright," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll sod off."

He saw Arthur's eyes widen with regret, but he turned away quickly, his eyes beginning to burn. With hasty but deliberate steps, he left the café not bearing in mind - even for a second - how long Arthur was doubtless going to wait before he came to the realization that his princess wasn't going to come.


	14. Chapter 14

**I apologize for the ending of last chapter XD But I promise things will start looking up soon. Let's be real, those two can't stay away from each other :D Thank you again for the reviews, favourites and follows. Again, particularly those of you who review regularly - you guys keep me going! Thank you :) **

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**Chapter Fourteen**

Merlin was quiet and brooding for the next few days, avoiding both Arthur Pendragon and 'Ares' like the plague. He didn't get any new emails from him, and he adamantly refused to even glance at any of the old ones, even though his mind was constantly buzzing, suddenly capable of making sense of all the mysterious things Ares had said over the course of their correspondence. He now knew that Ares's 'best friend who lived far away' was Morgana. His overbearing, greek mythology loving father was the king and the irritating boy who constantly tried to undermine his confidence was _him_. Also, knowing the prince's personality, Ares's lack of reliable friends suddenly made sense too.

Gwaine, who still believed that Merlin had gone straight back to dorm after finding out that Ares was Arthur, had spent the next few days nagging him with questions about 'Ares' - "Has he ever said anything about that time he accidentally rode a motorcycle into the lake of Avalon? I've always wanted to know about that. Did you know he dated Daphne Blum? The model? Has he ever said anything about that? Did you _really _have no inkling that you were talking to royalty?" - but with the sting from the prince's harsh words still fresh in his mind, Merlin waved off the questions, using the fact that he still had two mid-term papers to complete as an excuse.

The first day of the mid-term break eventually rolled lethargically around. Merlin turned in his papers, packed his bags and was picked up by Galahad, who had made a lot of sales in the past few weeks, and was in high spirits. It felt good being with his brother again, and it was refreshing not to talk about either Ares or Arthur, which all his friends (irritatingly enough) seemed very intent on doing. While Gwaine was the only one who talked to him about Ares, Gwen had suddenly become very preoccupied with the prince, claiming that her first impression of him was wrong and that he 'wasn't actually such a big douche'. Lancelot, who had joined the football team, had also taken to talking about the prince and the other members of the football team - mostly in the hopes that Gwaine would join them - and even Will started off their phone conversations by asking about the prince. Of course, unlike the others, Will enjoyed hearing about how disagreeable Arthur was… but Merlin was tired of talking about Arthur, even if it was to complain.

So being with Galahad for four days was exactly the kind of break he needed. His brother wasn't interested in the glamour and gossip of the royals, and after a fleeting question about whether 'that bully was still annoying him', Galahad spent the rest of the car trip discussing art and literature, and telling Merlin silly stories about his clients.

* * *

Galahad put a steaming pot of spaghetti on the large wooden slab with legs he called a table.

"Here," he said, gesturing towards it with a sauce-stained spoon. "You finally get to taste my legendary Spaghetti Arrabbiata. Now be careful… your brain might explode from the sheer deliciousness of it."

Merlin laughed. "You've just gotten more modest about your cooking since the last time we stayed together."

Galahad grinned and sat down on the chair across from him. "That was the time I came to Ealdor to visit, wasn't it? That was a fun trip."

"Yeah," Merlin agreed. "That was the time you got us kicked out of the movie theatre."

"That man was being very disrespectful," Galahad said, frowning. "Just because he had seen the movie before didn't mean we needed his commentary."

"You didn't have to throw your coke all over him." Merlin said, giggling. He started serving himself the spaghetti, relishing the sight of the long orange strands as they dangled from the pasta spoon. It had been ages since he ate anything home-cooked.

"Yeah well he was obnoxious." Galahad flicked a curl from his eyes, conclusively. He put down the spoon he was holding and started pulling off his apron. "So tell me about this Professor Gaius…" he said, his voice muffled, "...I remember him vaguely. He used to come over and have drinks with mum and dad all the time."

It was always strange hearing about Galahad's childhood. He barely ever mentioned Balinor or his real mother, Nim… for two different reasons. He rarely spoke of Nim because she had died when he was four and he hardly remembered her. He had subsequently been raised by Hunith whom he had grown to love as a mother and had taken to calling mum, while he referred to Nim merely as 'my mother'. Balinor, on the other hand, was a painful topic for Galahad. He had been Galahad's sole parent for five years and the two of them had had a connection Merlin was secretly envious of. After all, the man had died when Merlin was two and he'd never gotten to know him at all. But he'd heard stories from Hunith about Balinor and Galahad going to theme parks and travelling around Ascetir, and he couldn't help but wish he'd had that experience with his father too.

Galahad had managed to pull his apron off and was looking at Merlin expectantly, his hair disheveled.

"He's cool. I thought he was really strange at first, but I've grown quite fond of him." Merlin said, taking tentative sips of water as he watched Galahad's pensive expression. "He said he helped you and mum escape from Camelot."

"Yeah, I remember that," Galahad picked up a fork and stuck it in the pot, pulling out a few strands of spaghetti, "He met us a few days before we ran… brought us some stuff. Whispered some instructions to mum. I wasn't really listening though, it was only a few days after d…" Galahad dropped his fork, doubling over.

"Galahad?" Merlin asked, concerned. His brother had always gotten choked up when talking about their father, but he had never seen him react like this. "Are you alright?"

Jumping up, Merlin started walking over to his brother's side but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the muscles in his back start to twitch.

It was happening.

Galahad began shaking, his arms wrapped around his shoulders as if he was caught in a snowstorm. A long hiss escaped his lips before he felt to the ground, convulsing.

"Galahad!" Merlin gasped. He looked wildly around the room for the muscle relaxant pills Galahad kept in case of emergencies like this, but he just got more and more frenzied as he couldn't find them. They were probably in his bedroom, but Merlin didn't want to leave him in case he inadvertently hurt himself. He fell to his knees and clutched his brother's shoulder.

"Galahad," he said, in a soothing voice, "It's me. It's Merlin. It's going to be OK. I'm here."

He watched with surprise and relief as the shaking mass of curls before him gradually relaxed. But as Galahad slowly lifted his head, Merlin jerked backwards, the hairs on his arm inadvertently standing on edge.

His eyes were golden. Just like Merlin's eyes when he did magic, except that these weren't disappearing in a flash.

"Galahad?" he asked, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry these are the circumstances of our first meeting, young warlock."

The voice that came out of his brother's lips sounded nothing like Galahad. It was a strange voice - hollow and oddly reptilian.

"What?" Merlin asked softly, his eyes wide.

Galahad stood up and brushed the lint off his shirt before giving Merlin an apologetic look, his deep golden eyes heavy. "It is impossible for me to return in my original form, so I'm forced to take a human one."

"What?" Merlin repeated, his voice quivering, "What do you mean?"

"This day and age doesn't permit my original form. It was difficult even before, but now it's impossible with Uther Pendragon on the throne." He sighed, shaking Galahad's black locks.

"What are you?" Merlin demanded, his fear slowly being replaced by anger as he started to understand what the creature was implying. "Why have you possessed by brother's body?"

"Why… to get to you, young warlock." He said simply. He smiled a wide toothy grin, very unlike Galahad's sly smile. "Your brother is - what we call - a vessel. Much like your father." He looked gently at Merlin. "I was a part of your father before him. But alas, you were far too young to remember or understand my words then."

Merlin could feel a hot rage crawl through his skin. A _vessel? _This… infernal creature didn't seem to care that by overtaking Galahad's body he had pretty much ruined his life. No, he was discussing it casually, like Galahad was just some car he was taking for a test drive. Wasn't he aware of the things he had put his brother through? And the worst part of it all was that he… it… was justifying his actions by claiming that he had done them to get to_ Merlin. _

"My father didn't have fits like Galahad," Merlin said, his voice almost a hiss.

"By then your father and I had grown accustomed to each other, child. I only appeared when I was summoned." He paused, and then continued in a low voice, "Unlike your father, however, your brother is only a vessel. He doesn't have the power to summon me… which is why it has been more difficult for us to get accustomed to each other."

Merlin let out a short, exasperated breath. "You aren't making any sense," he said, annoyed. "Who are you?"

"I am Kilgharrah."

"Great. That's helpful." Merlin murmured, rolling his eyes.

The man… Galahad… Kilgharrah frowned. "Think of it this way, young warlock. Your brother is an oracle, and I have appeared to set you on the right path."

"The right path?" Merlin asked, skeptically.

"You are destined to bring magic back to the five kingdoms, young one."

"What?" Merlin let out a strangled laugh. "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like a jester to you?" Kilgharrah challenged, raising Galahad's eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Merlin demanded. Suddenly too dizzy to stand, he quickly sat down on one of the chairs and looked up at Kilgharrah, anger and confusion lacing his brow and voice. "I mean… why me?"

"Most people have to learn magic." Kilgharrah reminded him, gently. "Few people are born with it, and from them, your powers are the greatest."

"My powers…" Merlin stopped mid-sentence, unable to comprehend the thing's words. "So what does that mean? Do you want me to, like… start a protest march or something?"

Kilgharrah shook his head, "There will be too much bloodshed of our kind, and we're disappearing as it is. The Great Purge has caused enough carnage for a lifetime. No, we must focus our attentions on the man who can make all this right."

"Uther?" Merlin asked, disbelievingly, "He would never…"

"Uther is too far gone to change. I am talking about Arthur."

Merlin couldn't prevent a snort. "Arthur? He's as bad as his father."

"Do not be fooled by what the prince appears to be," he warned him. "But then again, you know he's more than meets the eye."

Merlin turned away to hide the blush on his cheeks. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, forcefully, "You want me to plead with him? You want me to go up to him and say, _pretty please make magic legal again?" _

Kilgharrah made a noise that sounded like he was choking. It was only when Merlin turned back around to face him when he realized the creature was laughing. "It is the prince's destiny to bring magic back to Albion, young warlock," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well if it's his _destiny _then it's going to happen no matter what I do, right?"

Kildharrah suddenly looked grave. "Unfortunately not. Destinies are tricky things. There are people out there who know what the prince is destined to do and are willing to go out of their way to make sure it doesn't come to fruition."

"I don't understand what _I _have to do with any of this!" Merlin insisted furiously.

"It is your duty… your _destiny_ to be by his side. You were born to serve him and to keep him from harm so that someday, through him, we can once again thrive in Albion."

Merlin tried to make a scornful remark, but was struck dumb by the irony that the boy who had told him he had no purpose in life was actually his life's purpose.

"What if I say no?" Merlin asked indignantly, scowling into the thing's bright eyes.

"None of us can choose our destiny, young warlock," he said, his face betraying no emotion, "and none of us can escape it."

"I don't want to serve Arthur Pendragon. He's… a bully."

Kildharrah smiled, a thin strained smile. "Well perhaps it is your destiny to change that," he said.

And with that, he was gone, leaving a very disoriented Galahad in his place.


	15. Chapter 15

**So I guess you guys really didn't like the last chapter, huh? I got a total of 0 reviews XD Well, I hope you like this one better. This is the first time I've attempted a Merlin fanfic of this length, so you know... there might be a few speed bumps along the way.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Arthur remained in Sorsbrooke for the mid-term break. It would have been easy to go back home - the castle was only a three hour drive away - but he decided that he wanted some time to himself. He did miss his father, but he knew that in another month he'd be back home for the Winter Break and he thought it made more sense to enjoy his time alone while he could.

Percival stayed back with him, of course. Arthur found that he didn't mind it too much. His hulking bodyguard spent as much time reading as he spent in the gym, which gave Arthur a lot more privacy than he had initially expected to have. Given that Arthur wasn't interested in either of the activities - he got enough exercise from football, and he while he enjoyed the concept of books, he didn't actually bother trying to read any of them - it was safe to say that he and Percy didn't have much in common. But they _did _have a silent agreement to let each other have as much of their own space as possible, given the circumstances. Occasionally Arthur would join his bodyguard in the living room to watch _How I Met Your Mother _or re-read 'The Lionheart' while Percy read some yellowing novel about dictators or horticulture, but the show was on hiatus and he hadn't even been able to look at 'The Lionheart' since the night Emrys stood him up. So instead, when he wasn't out with Elyan and the guys, or wasting time on the internet or - _god forbid - _studying, he found himself lounging and listening to music on a wide grassy plot on the edge of campus. A little stream - that had been jokingly named 'The Spritz' by some student with a terrible sense of humour back in the 1900's - ran through it, making it the most beautiful and tranquil place on campus. Arthur had discovered it earlier in the semester, but had avoided it due to it's secluded nature. However, once the mid-term break rolled around, he found himself going there more and more often… usually whenever he found himself frustrated or needing to think. Sometimes even multiple times a day, he would put on a thick jacket and head over to the large ash tree at the edge of the stream. It helped calm him, and oddly enough, it somehow managed to put things in perspective. And with his coronation looming closer, Arthur really needed to put things in perspective.

It was towards the end of the break, at one such introspective session, when Arthur was shaken out of his reverie by a timorous voice.

"It's kind of cold to be sitting out here, isn't it?"

Arthur glanced up, squinting in the sun, and was surprised to see Morgana's roommate hovering above him, a timid expression on her face.

"I like it," he admitted, turning back to the rushing water, "It makes me…uh.."

"Feel alive?" she offered.

He grimaced. "How trite. I was going to say 'glad that we have heated dorms'."

She giggled, and he gestured towards the ground beside him. She sat down hesitantly, a smile so wide plastered on her face that he couldn't help but reciprocate.

"You didn't go back home?" she asked, shyly, "For the break?"

"No." He sighed and then laughed. "This is actually more of a break than going home would be."

"What do you mean?"

"Father insists that I attend court every single day. And then I have lessons on military strategy and… other things. It's just all very exhausting," he admitted.

"He would make you do that even during your break? That's awful!"

"The kingdom doesn't take a break, so how can we?" he asked, a little mournfully.

She nodded sympathetically and seeing the pitying look on her face, Arthur quickly gathered himself.

"So," he said, casually, "how come _you_ didn't go back home?"

"I'm from Nemeth. It wouldn't really be worth it to go back for just a few days."

Arthur nodded, "Not to mention the price of a train ticket is exorbitant. I was honestly appalled when King Rodor doubled the price of train tickets out of Nemeth… how does he expect poorer people to pay that kind of money?"

Gwen looked impressed. "So you _are_ aware of things happening in the neighbouring kingdoms."

Arthur shifted in his seat and dropped his gaze, and Gwen began stammering, catching the hurt look that flashed in his eyes.

"No.. I didn't mean it that way… I wasn't trying to insult you!" The look of utter distress on her face would have made him laugh if the past few days hadn't made him feel like a stone that had been kicked to dust by a steel-toed boot. "A friend of mine was saying something about you being nothing more than your title… that you had no substance and that you weren't aware of what was happening in your own kingdom, let alone others. I didn't believe it, though! So when you said that just now, it proved that I was right." She hastily wiped away a thin layer of perspiration from her forehead.

Arthur forced a smile. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."

"I don't know why he hates you so much," Gwen continued, babbling. "He doesn't even know you."

"No matter what you do, there will always be someone who has something negative to say about it," he sighed, brushing hair off his forehead. "You know Guinevere, in life people will say all sorts of awful things about you because they don't understand you or can't relate to you. But the trick is to ignore them." He looked sincerely into her dark brown eyes. "The thing is, deep in my heart I believe I can be a good king to my people. I really do. I don't think I'm there yet, and I don't think I will be there for a long time… but I do believe that I will get there eventually. And then it won't matter what people thought about me at this age. Because what I accomplish when I have the power to accomplish something will speak for itself, right?"

"Yes," she said, breathlessly.

Arthur gave her a small half-smile and she blushed, suddenly very interested in the grass.

"So, what is your first ruling as king going to be?" she asked, pulling a strand of grass from the mud.

Arthur leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. "To hire all the chefs in every _Angelo's Pizza _outlet to come work for me."

She laughed. "You'll start a war!"

"But then my _second _ruling will be to make chocolate free for the whole of Camelot. Then everyone will love me and I'll be the greatest king who ever lived. And I'll get to eat pizza every single day."

She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "What about the people who are making the chocolate? How will they get paid?"

"They won't."

"Then they'll stop making chocolate."

"No, they won't. I'll convince them not to by charming them with my ravishing good looks," he smiled that lopsided grin of his and shook his head reprovingly, "Isn't it obvious?"

She giggled, "You are such a dollophead."

Arthur's smile dropped and Gwen's grin faded into a look of fear and confusion at the abrupt change of expression on his face.

"Sorry," he said, quickly feigning nonchalance again, "what did you call me?"

She let out an awkward chuckle, "A dollophead."

"What's a dollophead?"

She shrugged. "Not sure. I think it's slang of some kind."

"I've never heard it used before."

"I honestly can't remember where I heard it," she said, vaguely. "I think it was in a movie or something."

"Oh."

"Suits you perfectly, though."

He grinned, "I can't imagine why."

* * *

The sun had already set by the time Arthur returned to his dorm.

He had spent the whole afternoon chatting with Gwen and had come away feeling oddly content. Morgana's roommate was nothing like he had expected - she was extremely adorable and easy to talk to, and they had spent the entire time laughing about something ridiculous or another. He had also learnt a lot about her. He discovered that she was Elyan's sister (which had shocked him, given that Elyan hadn't mentioned having any siblings, let alone ones that went to Sorsbrooke with them) and that she had been in 'Wrap and Roll' the day that idiot had publicly humiliated him. He also discovered that she was best friends with said idiot. Arthur wasn't quite sure what he felt about that, but he was surprised to discover that his first thought upon discovering it was an impulse to ask Gwen to apologize to Merlin on his behalf. The boy had driven him up the wall that night at 'The Bean', irritating him even after he had politely asked him to leave. Yet, Arthur still felt extremely guilty for what he had said to him. There really was no excuse for that kind of behaviour, no matter how infuriating the boy was being. But Arthur didn't say anything about that night to Gwen. He couldn't bring himself to… not when their conversation had so successfully managed to get his mind off Emrys's failure to show up and her subsequent silence.

At one point in their conversation Gwen had also brought up the topic of Morgana, which was a discussion Arthur had been wanting to have but was uncomfortable initiating. After all, Morgana was his best friend and he hardly knew Gwen. But when she asked him if there was something going on with Morgana, it filled him with immense relief that it wasn't just him she was behaving oddly around. They had discussed it, and Gwen suggested that perhaps the stress was getting to her. Apparently Morgana spent all her time studying or in tutorials with Professor Septus. Maybe the workload was too much for her? Arthur wasn't quite sure that was the reason, but there didn't seem to be any other plausible explanation so he accepted it. Quite gladly, actually, since his previous explanation involved her starting to hate him. And that was the second worst explanation for her current behaviour, right after 'having only a few months to live'.

Having gotten so many things off his mind, Arthur returned to his dorm feeling calmer than he had in days. He proceeded to take a long shower, allowing the steam and hot water to wash away all the tormenting thoughts that had plagued him in the last week.

It was when he came out of the shower feeling fresh, a towel around his waist and his hair smelling like lavender, when he noticed that an email from Emrys had arrived just a few seconds prior.

He sat down heavily on his desk chair, a flush of anger overtaking him and ruining his peaceful mood. For a second he just stared at his computer, seriously considering not opening the email at all.

She had hurt him. She had hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

He had spent the entire past week agonizing about that night - dwelling on how she didn't turn up and thinking about how foolish he must have looked when, hours later, he gave up and went to Percival and said, "Let's go back Percy, I don't think she's coming". But the worst part of it all was the fact that she hadn't written to him to explain her absence. She hadn't written to tell him why she had just left him floundering… which led Arthur to believe that she had come, seen him and left.

And that hurt even more.

But the longer Arthur looked at that stupid email sitting in his mailbox, the more he realized that in the end, he was just relieved that she had written back to him after all.

* * *

_Dear Ares,_

_I know you must be furious with me right now. I would be too. I can't imagine what you must have been feeling, alone in that stark little café, thinking every person who walked in was me. I can understand if you can't forgive me… I can barely forgive myself. _

_I don't want to lie to you, Ares. I haven't up until this point, and I don't want to start. I can't tell you where I was the night we were supposed to meet. But I want you to know that it wasn't because of you. It's me. I am a total turniphead and I made a huge mistake. I feel terrible about what happened, and I want you to know how sorry I am. _

_You've told me time and time again how you've grown to believe you can't trust people. I want you to know that you CAN trust me. I promise you… next time we decide to meet, I will face any manner of horrors that I have to and I will be there. Please believe me. It would absolutely kill me inside if I joined the list of people who have convinced you that you can't rely on anyone in this world. _

_I hope from the bottom of my heart that you can forgive me, because more than anything in the world, I don't want to lose you as a friend._

_Emrys_

* * *

Professor Gale started the lecture with a slideshow as usual. Merlin came late - which was odd for him - and Arthur watched from the corner of his eye as the boy took his usual seat at the other end of the classroom. Arthur had gotten there early, still unable to make up his mind about whether he felt more angry with Merlin or more guilty about the things he'd said to him last week. He had hoped to catch him before class started, in the hopes that seeing him would help him figure out what plan of action he intended to take. But the class was already in full swing when Merlin finally showed up, and seeing him slip silently into the room didn't help Arthur make up his mind at all.

The strong feeling of indecision distracted Arthur and he couldn't help but watch Merlin fidget in his seat in the dark room, the dull blue light from the screen highlighting his sharp cheekbones. There was something oddly beautiful about him, Arthur realized. Something mesmerizing about the way he cocked his head, profoundly interested in the professor's words. Something almost ethereal in the way he didn't even glance down at the notes he was taking, the fingers of his other hand carelessly entangled in his inky hair.

The presentation flicked off, and Arthur recoiled as the lights turned on, momentarily blinding him.

"And _that _is what I want to see from your final projects," Professor Gale droned. "Now, I am going to give you all five minutes to find a partner."

The entire class jumped to their feet, and Arthur looked around, disoriented, as a cluster of people enveloped him.

"Arthur! Want to be my partner?" A blonde girl asked, smiling sweetly.

"Hey, back off… we're actually friends." That boy… what was his name… Theon? said, roughly pushing another boy away.

"I have a perfect idea for a book we can work on together."

"I thought the ideas you brought up in class the other day were excellent!"

Someone began clapping loudly and the students fell silent, turning towards the source of the noise. Professor Gale stood before the group, looking extremely unamused. "What is this?" she demanded, "Is this a primary school?" She glared at the blank faces of the students. "Disperse this group please. I will choose Prince Arthur's partner."

Arthur's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest but the large woman silenced him with a hand. "I do not want a student to be distracted by being partnered with you," she said, by way of explanation, "And I do not want to put you in a position to choose between your… friends… either."

She glanced around the room and spotted a small group of students on the far side of the classroom who were preoccupied in their own discussion, uninterested in the commotion that was happening. She smiled a toothy grin.

"You there!" She called, and the students turned around. "The boy, come here!"

Merlin gave her a wide-eyed look and pointed to himself, questioningly.

She rolled her eyes. "Are there any other boys on that side of the room?"

He flushed slightly, and slowly - reluctantly - made his way through the seats to Arthur's side of the classroom. Arthur felt panic begin to rise in his chest.

"Yes, professor?" Merlin asked.

"I want you to be partners with Prince Arthur."

Merlin froze. "I… No, I can't. I already have a partner," he stammered, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Your partner can find someone else. I want the two of you to be partners."

"Really now, professor." Arthur said, quickly, "If he doesn't want to…"

"Nonsense," Professor Gale gave Merlin a hard look, "You will be just fine partnering with Arthur, _won't you_?"

Merlin nodded stiffly. "Of course, professor."

"Wonderful. Now, settle down in your places and start discussing which book you would like to do your final project on."

The crowd around Arthur scattered dejectedly and Arthur heard some girls muttering angrily about how unfair it was that Arthur's partner was someone who didn't want to work with him. Merlin ignored the comments and flopped into the seat beside Arthur, avoiding his gaze.

"Alright then," he mumbled, "let's do this."

"I don't actually know what we're supposed to do," Arthur admitted, "I wasn't listening."

"Shocker." Merlin muttered, echoing Arthur's words from the night they last spoke. But he opened his notebook and read out the instructions in an exaggerated drawl. "First, we have to pick a book that we both want to analyze. Then we discuss the overarching themes, the plot, the characters and their importance in the plot… blah blah… all that stuff. Then, we pick a chapter and together we have to analyze it in relation to the rest of the book. We have to explain why we picked it, why we felt it was the most important chapter, etc. Then we write individual papers and submit them by the last class of the term." He looked at Arthur as if defying him to question his words, "Got it?"

Arthur felt a flicker of annoyance at his contemptuous tone. "Alright. What book do you want to do?"

"I was thinking 'The Remains of the Day'. It's mostly internal monologue of the butler of a large estate during the interwar years, the second world war and it's aftermath. It's beautiful because there's this…"

"Ew. Boring. I almost fell asleep just listening to you talking about it."

The tips of Merlin's ears flushed red and Arthur had to keep from smirking.

"If I wanted to know about butlers I would watch Downton Abbey," Arthur continued, haughtily, "But I don't. Because they're boring."

"Too used to seeing them around your house?" Merlin asked, his words icy and tight.

Arthur scowled, "I don't have any butlers."

"What a pity. They're the ones that usually commit murders in the house… if detective novels are anything to go by."

Arthur gave him a dirty look. "Whatever that means. The_ point_ is, _Mer_lin, that your idea for the book to analyze is terrible." He crossed his arms, and sat back in his chair defiantly. He didn't know what it was about Merlin, but he seemed to get under his skin in a way no one else could… which was extremely disconcerting for him, since he'd been taught to try and remain as unaffected by people as possible.

"Why are you even here?" Merlin growled. "It's not like you're trying to get a job in the future."

"Well, I don't know about _you, _but I certainly wouldn't like to be ruled by a stupid king."

"I think I'm going to be ruled by one regardless of whether or not you take this class." Merlin muttered.

Arthur's mouth fell open. "Are you calling my father stupid?"

"No I'm calling _you _stupid, you cabbagehead."

Arthur pursed his lips, silently fuming. "Oh, so I'm stupid just because I don't want to analyze some tedious book about a man who dresses like a penguin for a living?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes at him, "Why are you doing this?" he asked, and Arthur scoffed. He was about to voice a retort when Merlin blurted out, "You're not really like this"

"What?" Arthur asked, taken off-guard.

"You heard me. Are you disagreeing with my choice of book just to try my patience?"

"No, I'm disagreeing because it's a terrible choice of book," Arthur spat, suddenly uneasy. Merlin was right, of course, Arthur _was_ just trying to irritate him. He didn't actually think historical fiction was boring. In fact, he had secretly watched all the seasons of Downton Abbey that were out and was eagerly awaiting the next one. But he hadn't told anyone about that… the guys on the football team would tease him mercilessly if they knew how ardently he was hoping for Bates and Anna to work things out. "And you don't know the first thing about me." He added as a forceful afterthought.

"Maybe I know more about you than you think."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

For a second, none of them said anything. Arthur's thoughts were roaring so loudly they enveloped the buzz of the other students conversing with their partners. What the hell was he on about? He stared pointedly at Merlin, who was frowning at his shoes, and waited for him to explain his ridiculous statement. Eventually Merlin took a deep breath, trying to dissipate his fury. "Nothing. It means nothing," he said, curtly, picking up a pen and beginning to doodle little figurines in his notebook. "Let's just get back to the project, alright? Do you have any ideas for books?"

"How about…"

"No."

Arthur glared at him, "You didn't let me finish."

Merlin didn't look up from his sketch. "I could sense it was going to be a stupid idea, so I saved you the trouble of embarrassing yourself."

Arthur gritted his teeth, "Why do you have it out for me?" he demanded, "Why have you made it your life's mission to aggravate me?"

Merlin looked up, his cerulean eyes burning into Arthur's with an intensity Arthur was surprised to see in such a slight creature.

"_I _have it out for _you? _Please! You have just been awful to me since the day we…"

"_Me? _You're the one who came up to me and began insulting me!"

"Well, what about last friday?" Merlin demanded, "I was being extremely friendly and you treated me like I was a fly that wouldn't leave you alone!"

His normally pale face was red and his fingers gripped the pen in his hand so fiercely Arthur was sure it was going to break.

"You're right," he said, softly.

Merlin's angry expression melted into one of confusion. "Huh?"

"I said, you're right." Arthur repeated, rigidly, "I was wrong for saying all those things to you. I'm really sorry."

Merlin's eyes widened in bewilderment, and Arthur almost laughed.

"Oh," Merlin said, flustered, "Yeah… thanks.. I accept your apology. And uh… I'm sorry too. For, uh… humiliating you in front of so many people… the first time we met."

"And for calling me arrogant?"

Merlin gave him a skeptical look, and Arthur let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, alright." He agreed.

"So," Merlin mumbled, opening a fresh page in his notebook, "What book were you going to suggest we do?"

"There's a book called 'Quantum Event' by Red Collins. I haven't read it, but I was told it was really good. They have really great themes and stuff… I thought it would be easy to pick apart or whatever."

Merlin eyes were unreadable as they searched Arthur's, "Yeah," he said, slowly, "I've read it. You're right. It's a really good book… and it would be interesting to dissect."

"Alright, it's settled then, yes?" Arthur asked, pulling out a pen from his pocket.

"Yeah, that works." Merlin scribbled a few words into his notebook. "You _do_ realize you're actually going to have to read the book now, right?"

Arthur grimaced, "Oh right. Actually, I have another idea for a book."

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Green Eggs and Ham," Arthur said, "it's brilliant. It's mostly internal monologue of a man who is against breaking out of social norms and eating discoloured food in odd locations."

There was a moment of silence. Arthur waited to see an eye roll, but instead Merlin broke out into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're an idiot," he laughed.

Unexpectedly, Arthur's stomach did a little flutter.

Must have been something he ate.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think... even if it's just to let me know that people are actually reading this. **


	16. Chapter 16

_**Omg **_**_dfjhsdjfhsd_. Thank you guys so, so, SO much for the reviews! :) I was so worried you had all gotten bored of this story (which would have been bad, because there's quite a bit to go), but your response to the last chapter has made me SO happy! Thank you so much! **

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

_Dear Ares, _

_ You can not imagine how relieved I was to get your email. I breathed out so loudly, my friend (who was sitting next to me in the library while I was reading your email) practically fell off his chair. Honestly, I half-expected you to not reply at all. But I'm so glad you did, Ares. I'm so sorry._

_I really do care about you, you know? I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if my stupid mistake had ended our friendship. Your letters really are the highlight of my week. _

_ This could be kind of nice though, right? I mean, now that we know we go to the same school, I can get your opinions on a range of things I didn't know I could get your opinion on before. Like, what do you think of the food in Stevens? And are you taking any Art History classes? And what's your opinion on that dollophead Arthur Pendragon?_

_Best,_

_Emrys_

* * *

Maybe Kilgharrah was right.

Maybe there _was_ something incomprehensible that was linking Merlin's life to Arthur's. What else could explain the uncanny way they were constantly crossing paths? The fact that they had found each other over the internet and then proceeded to - not only - go to the same university, but also be coerced into partnering with each other for their novel-analysis final was more than just coincidence. However, Merlin was still unsure about what the… oracle thing… had meant by having to 'protect' Arthur. How was he supposed to protect him when he couldn't use his magic around him? And from what? But after being paired with Arthur for the project Merlin realized that there might have been some truth in the oracle's words. Even after just one day of working with Arthur, Merlin was starting to see Ares in him - in his sense of humour, in the way he told stories - but there was still a lot of the prince in him too, and Merlin would be lying if he said that after settling their differences, they had gotten along famously. Quite the opposite. They had spent the rest of the lesson bickering about which overarching theme was most important.

"It's fascinating! Do you know how many books have talked about that concept?" Merlin demanded, "A lot! Because people are intrigued by it!"

"That's exactly my point! There are enough books about that… I don't remember reading any books about people using beauty to garner respect."

"That's because you don't read." Arthur shot Merlin a glare, and Merlin had to keep from grinning. "… and also because it's a boring concept that people learn about every day when they read the celebrity gossip section in the newspaper."

"Jesus Christ, Merlin!" Arthur said, covering his face with his hands, "You are the most stubborn person I have ever met!"

"You haven't even read the book, you… you clotpole."

Arthur had then peeked out at him from between his fingers. "What's with you and Guinevere and making up nicknames?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"What?" Merlin asked, confused.

"Guinevere. She's your best friend, right?"

"One of them, yeah. I didn't know you knew her."

"She's Morgana's roommate."

"Oh, right…" Merlin scratched his head, awkwardly. "I've never heard her make up nicknames."

Arthur dropped his hands from his face and shrugged.

"Well, you're still wrong." Merlin insisted, ignoring the intervention, "The concept of uniting people against a common enemy is far more compelling than the idea of using beauty to get respect!"

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is! You're the prince, you should know."

"I do know. I'm attractive, people respect me and it's an intriguing concept."

Merlin growled, but refrained from bringing up Uther Pendragon's methods of uniting the non-magic folk by turning them against sorcery.

However, despite the argument which ended only when the class did, Merlin had left the lecture knowing that he and Arthur were no longer at war. An unspoken truce had formed between them, and Merlin hoped it would last. After all, they were going to meet on Monday to continue working on their project.

* * *

Merlin and Gwaine were in the middle of a heated 'iPhone vs. Android' argument when they were joined by Gwen and Lancelot. Gwaine had just slammed the table, sending the salt shaker flying onto the ground. Merlin had proceeded to burst out laughing and Gwen had panicked, telling Gwaine to throw the salt over his shoulder if he wanted to avoid bad luck. Gwaine had complied, laughingly, and then they all settled down to eat the rest of their meals.

"Did Gwaine tell you?" Lance asked Merlin, tucking into his lasagne.

"Tell me what?" Merlin asked, looking from Lance to Gwaine, "Did you finally get the Guinness World Record for hungriest person alive?"

Gwaine made a face, "Not yet. Those bastards."

Merlin grinned, "Alright, so what's the news?"

"Gwaine agreed to try out for the football team!" Lance said, grinning. "He's trying out tomorrow, and if he gets in he might be able to play in the big game that's coming up!"

Gwen laughed, "That's not good news for Merlin… now _two _of you will be talking about Arthur and the boys. He's going to hate it."

Merlin shrugged and Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "Actually," Merlin said, trying to sound indifferent, "Arthur and I sort of… worked things out."

"Really?" Gwen asked, shocked. "How did that happen?"

"We were paired up in novel-analysis class," Merlin said, hastily, "We had to make peace, otherwise we would have never gotten any work done."

"You know you guys can just… work on your papers separately right?" Lance asked, "I mean, your marks depend on the end result, not the discussion. You could just do your own research and write your own…"

"Stop it, Lance," Gwen shushed him. She turned and beamed at Merlin. "I'm so happy!" she squealed. "This is great news!"

Merlin laughed, a little awkwardly. "And why is that?"

"Oh, well actually," Gwen blushed a little, "Arthur and I are friends now too…"

Gwaine snickered. "Arthur's just going around making friends now, is he? Why? Did he re-watch his old Barney tapes and learn the true meaning of friendship?"

"Shut up, Gwaine," Lancelot said, shoving him playfully. "Since when?" he asked Gwen.

"Well, I bumped into him by 'The Spritz' a few days ago…"

"Bumping into someone doesn't mean that…"

"Let me finish! He invited me to the football match next weekend." Gwen said, glowingly. "And he asked if I wanted to have lunch with him after."

There was a split second of awkward silence before Gwaine slapped her on the back.

"Good on you, Gwen," he said, grinning. "So when you said you and Arthur were friends, you meant that you were _friends." _Gwaine said the last word suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She giggled and Merlin inexplicably found himself very interested in a poster for Salsa dancing classes that had been stuck on the pillar next to them, as he tried to ignore the way his stomach was churning.

"That is great news!" Lancelot agreed, "And once you and Arthur start dating maybe you can ask him to set me up with Morgana?"

Gwen rolled her eyes and Lance grinned. "I'm just joking," he said, pushing her shoulder playfully. She cracked a smile and he shook his head, "I had no idea you liked him."

"Yeah, I've sort of… had a crush on him for a while now." She admitted, shyly.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Merlin asked. He tried to sound teasing but his words were coming out a little forcefully.

"Lance and him are friends… it would have been weird to mention it." She said bashfully before frowning at Merlin. "And you've done nothing but talk badly of him! How could I say anything?"

"But…still. I'm your friend." Merlin said, tugging at his collar, "If I had known about your feelings I might have made peace with him sooner."

His stomach was suddenly feeling very tight. He picked at the uneaten chips on his plate, carefully avoiding Gwaine's gaze.

So Gwen was going out with Arthur. On a date. That was good news.

"He mentioned you, you know," he said, forcing himself to meet Gwen's eye, "In class."

"Really?" she asked, excitedly, "What did he say?"

"He mentioned that you were good at making up nicknames or something?"

Gwen frowned.

"You're the one who keeps making up words." Lancelot said nodding at Merlin. Merlin shrugged and took a sip of his coke.

"I don't know. That's what he said."

"I am glad you two are friends now, Merlin," Gwen said, earnestly, "In case things get… you know, _serious… _I didn't want to have to choose between spending time with him and spending time with you guys."

"I would have put up with him if it made you happy," he said, smiling weakly. "I really am glad for you, Gwen."

He did mean that.

They dropped the topic of Gwen and Arthur's date after that, which relieved Merlin, even though not talking about it didn't prevent it from infesting his thoughts. Gwen was going out with Ares. _His _Ares. But it was Arthur. He didn't want to go out with Arthur… but Arthur was Ares, and Ares was _his. _And he had been_ only _his for months. But now Gwen was taking him away. The idea made Merlin nauseous.

"Are you alright?" Gwaine asked him, when they were walking back towards their dorm.

"What do you mean?" he asked, even though he knew perfectly well what Gwaine meant.

"About Gwen… and Arthur."

"Of course," Merlin said, faking a smile, "Why wouldn't I be? It's not like Arthur and I are… anything. We're not even friends."

"But he _is _Ares… and… I mean, you're really fond of Ares."

Merlin made a noncommittal gesture. "It's fine. I've been disillusioned with him since I found out he was Arthur."

Gwaine grinned. "It's probably for the better. Arthur is kind of an arse, isn't he?"

Merlin nodded, "Yeah… I don't know what Gwen sees in him."

* * *

_Dear Emrys, _

_ Once, when I was about five years old, I was playing with this kid who grabbed one of my toys - I believe it was a batman figurine and it was super cool - and refused to give it back. But when I went crying to my father, instead of comforting me, he very gruffly sat me down and said "In every situation, you have two choices. Either, you can let them affect you and you can cry and scream about it, or you can realize that crying and screaming won't make a difference. Think about it this way, he's probably stealing your toy because he WANTS to see you cry. If you act like you don't care, he'll get bored and give it back to you." Obviously those weren't his exact words… I was five, I don't remember that much detail… but that was the gist of what he said, and oddly enough, that's exactly what happened. I walked back in that room and ignored the kid for the rest of the day. And eventually he got bored and left my toy on the ground. So, ever since then I've grown up believing that showing people how you truly feel is a sign of weakness. _

_ Now, however, I've come to realize that I no longer have a choice. Even if I want to, I find myself completely incapable of letting people know how I really feel. I physically can't. My whole body just seems to reject emotion. Whenever I have to tell someone that I care about them, or that I missed them, or even if it's telling them that they hurt me, I can't do it. Instead I stutter and I tease and I act like I don't care. Because I hate feeling vulnerable. To open myself up just seems like an invitation to get hurt, you know? _

_ Remember that friend I was telling you about? The one who I've known since I was a kid? My best friend who lives far away? Well, she's been acting very strange lately, and I don't know why. I keep trying to tell myself that it's just something she's dealing with, and that it doesn't concern me, but honestly, I'm a little scared that she hates me. I know that's stupid, because I haven't done anything to her… but I just can't shake the feeling. The way she looks at me now, the way her smile never reaches her eyes… there's something venomous there. She's not the same person. I keep trying to talk to her, but she keeps pushing me away and I just can't find the words. I know I should just sit her down and ask her point-blank what's been happening, but I just can't. Emotions tend to overwhelm me, and I'm worried if I try and talk to her I'll just end up saying something to offend her. Ugh, I need help. What would you do if you were in such a situation? _

_I'm being boring, I know. I'm sorry. I'll stop._

_ Arthur Pendragon? Uh… I don't quite have an opinion on him. I've seen him around campus, but I haven't really spoken to him or anything. He just seems… lost, in my opinion. I don't know. _

_ Well, apart from this whole thing with my friend, things are actually starting to go smoothly. Apart from making up with you, I've also started managing my time better, which is good. I've also been making new friends and I even worked things out with that annoying guy who was bothering me. He's actually not as awful as I thought he was, surprisingly. What about you? Wasn't there some asshole who was irritating you in the beginning of the term? You haven't said anything about him in a while. Has it blown over or is he still being an ass? _

_ Cheers,_

_Ares_

* * *

"And…" Arthur stuck his tongue out, in a cartoonish expression of thinking, "…he has hubris?"

"What?" Merlin laughed. "How does he have hubris? Do you even know what that means?"

Arthur shrugged, "Some sort of toe fungus?"

Merlin shook his head, reproachfully. "You're an idiot. Did you even read the book?"

"Yes!" Arthur insisted. "I swear. I almost just read the cliffsnotes, but I decided to be a good student and actually read the whole thing."

Merlin looked at him skeptically and Arthur let out an irritated sigh. "Ok, I read half."

"Right."

Arthur frowned, looking more and more like a petulant four-year-old. "I did!"

"I believe you," Merlin said, passively.

There was a moment of silence before Arthur muttered, "Fine, I read the first four chapters, and then I read the cliffsnotes ok?"

Merlin grinned, "Now that sounds about right."

Arthur rolled his eyes and Merlin laughed. "Can we take a break?" Arthur whined, throwing his book on the floor of the library, "My brain can't deal with this anymore."

"We've barely done anything."

"We've done enough," Arthur huffed. He leaned back in his chair, but kept his eyes trained on Merlin. Merlin quickly averted his gaze, feeling an odd twinge in the pit of his stomach.

"Alright, let's just discuss it conversationally," Merlin suggested, "What do you think of Darius?"

"He's an idiot," Arthur said, lazily. "He's so scared of insanity that he drives himself insane." He half-smirked, "That's sort of funny if you think about it though."

"I think it's terrifying," Merlin admitted, "To fear something so much that you bring it upon yourself? How does that not freak you out?"

"My biggest fear is forgetting," Arthur said, surprising Merlin with his candidness. "Of forgetting things.. people… places." He looked into his lap. "But it's not like I can be inflicted by memory loss just by being intensely afraid that it's going to happen. Actually, the more I obsess about something the better I remember it… so obsessing over my fear is not going to make any difference."

Merlin knew this, of course. He had known what Arthur's greatest fear was before he'd even met Arthur, yet there was something extremely touching about hearing him say it in person. To hear him shyly voice Ares's deep feelings in that cultivated accent of his. The nervous way his hands fidgeted, the way he rocked his chair slightly…

Arthur flicked his eyes up and they met Merlin's, making his stomach flip. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"What's your greatest fear?"

This was not good.

"Uh," Merlin ran his fingers anxiously though his hair. Arthur already knew what his greatest fear was… if he said the same thing 'Emrys' had told him in their emails, he might start to suspect something.

"I don't want to say." Merlin said, quickly.

Arthur widened his eyes. "I told you mine."

"Mine is embarrassing."

"Oh come on." Arthur said, nudging his shoe with his own. "I promise I won't judge you any more than I already do."

Merlin looked down at the carpeted floor, trying to hide a smile. He racked his brain, but got more and more desperate as he found himself unable think of anything, until finally he remembered Gwaine freaking out while watching _The Walking Dead_ a few nights before.

"Zombies," he said, quickly. "They're creepy."

Arthur looked at him, disbelievingly. "_Zombies_?"

"You promised you wouldn't judge me!"

"I don't. I just…." Arthur was frowning with amused confusion. "Why zombies?"

"They have scary faces."

A hint of a smile played on Arthur's lips. "That's your _greatest _fear?"

"They're dead people that eat human brains, _Arthur_," Merlin said, trying to sound snarky. "It's terrifying."

It was obvious that Arthur was trying his hardest to hold back a laugh. "Merlin, you know zombies aren't real right?"

Merlin faltered, at a complete loss for words. Of all the thing he could have possibly said, he said _zombies. _That was literally the stupidest fear anyone could ever have. He certainly had a gift for saying the most idiotic things around Arthur.

"Not yet," he retorted, lamely.

Arthur laughed and Merlin stared back at him seriously.

"You are so unpredictable." Arthur said, shaking his head.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's not a bad thing."

"Does that mean you just complimented me?"

The prince made a face. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He bent down to pick up the book he'd thrown on the floor. "Alright, let's continue… I have go for football practice soon."

"Oh yeah," Merlin said, casually flipping the pages in his book, "You guys have a match this weekend, don't you?"

"Yeah," Arthur said, unenthusiastically, "this saturday." He licked his lips thoughtfully, and Merlin pretended to be reading, trying not to let the sight of Arthur's tongue carelessly trailing his lips distract him. "Why don't you come?"

"Huh?" Merlin looked up from his book, surprised. "I mean," Arthur grinned sheepishly, "it's not like you need an invitation from me to come, it's a university game. But it seems like it will be a good match. So it might be worth it to come."

Arthur was inviting _him_ to the game as well? Did that mean what he had with Gwen wasn't a date after all?

But no, he had invited Gwen to lunch after. That was the date bit, wasn't it? But if he went to the game and sat with Gwen, would Arthur invite him to lunch too? How was the game even supposed to be a date? Half the student body was going to be there. Maybe Arthur was just being friendly…

Arthur was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, but his dizzying blue eyes were making it a little hard to think.

"Merlin?"

"My friend Will's dad always said that watching football was like watching a bunch of headless chickens running around on a field," Merlin blurted suddenly.

Arthur frowned, "There's a little more to it than that."

"It does sort of look like it." Merlin continued innocuously, unable to stop, "What's the point? You're just chasing a ball and kicking it in a net."

Arthur looked a little affronted. "It's about agility, co-ordination, the ability to think on your feet…"

"And being able to kick things into nets."

Merlin mentally berated himself to shut up. What was the matter with him? What was it about Arthur that made him act like such an idiot? First in the cafe he had rattled on about lionesses, then he said his greatest fear was zombies and now he was talking about headless chickens. He would be surprised if Arthur _didn't _think he was bat-shit insane.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You don't have to come if you don't want to," he muttered.

Merlin felt a wave of panic run through him. "Have you ever seen a headless chicken run around?" He asked quickly, "It's awesome. I'll definitely be there."

Arthur was watching him curiously. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted at that." he said, sighing, "You're a riddle, Merlin."

"A riddle?"

"I just can't seem to figure you out."

* * *

**This chapter is a little too.. uh... congested, in my opinion. But I hope you liked it anyway. Please review :) **


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Arthur!" Merlin slipped into the seat next to Arthur on Friday morning, receiving a round of death glares from some of the girls in his class. He ignored them, looking eagerly at the distracted prince. "I figured out the perfect chapter we can use."

"I'm not the in the mood to study today, Merlin," he drawled, not looking at him. "My mind is preoccupied with other matters."

Merlin frowned. "What other matters?"

Arthur turned to him, his nose in the air. "I can't tell you. It's a secret," he sniffed. He leaned back in his chair, propping his legs up on the seat in front of him.

Merlin gave him a bemused look. "Alright," he said slowly, pulling his books out of his bag, "But we have a lecture right now, and she's given us the class time to work on our projects, and you can't leave. So if it's alright with you…_my lord, _maybe we can just work on our paper like we're supposed to."

"I can't Merlin," he wailed. "My mind has no place for other things today."

"Alright, what is wrong with you?" Merlin demanded, slamming his book shut. "You're acting like a child."

"I'm not a child," Arthur insisted. "I am a grown man. A grown man with overpowering feelings."

Merlin turned and looked helplessly around at the other students, who were preoccupied in their study groups. Was no one else seeing how strangely Arthur was acting?

"Arthur," he said, slowly, turning back to the prince, "what in god's name are you talking about?"

"There is a girl." He looked eagerly at Merlin, those azure eyes wide and expressive. "I'm in love."

Merlin felt like his internal organs had all collapsed into mush. All he could manage was a small "Oh."

That's why he was acting so bizarre. He was in love.

With Gwen.

It had to be Gwen. Who else could it be? They were going on a date tomorrow. They must have… met up at that spot by that river thing that Gwen said they hung out at. They must have chatted and laughed, and it must have hit Arthur how wonderful she was. He must have seen the sunlight in her hair and the reflection of the water in her eyes, and he must have realized he was in love with her.

"She's gorgeous," Arthur was saying, dreamily. "I can't believe I never saw it before."

"Well, it's not like you've known her very long," Merlin mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, affronted. "I've known her my whole life."

Merlin frowned, suddenly perplexed. Was Arthur just being a romantic, doing the whole 'I feel like I've known her my whole life, we were lovers in a previous lifetime' bit? Because he wasn't making a whole lot of sense. Granted, Merlin didn't know Arthur much outside of the cyber world, but he had never seen the prince act like this. Something just didn't feel right.

"You mean, it _feels _like you've known her your whole life?"

Arthur glared at him, "What do you mean _feels? _We've been friends since we were children!"

"Arthur…" Merlin was starting to get slightly concerned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Morgana, of course." Arthur giggled, swaying slightly in his chair. "Promise not to tell anyone? She can't know about this."

He looked like he was drunk; his grin was far too elated for someone sitting in a novel-analysis lecture on a Friday morning. Something was _definitely _wrong.

"Isn't she your cousin?"

"Barely," Arthur said, grimacing. "We don't even know how we're related, really. We just _say _we're cousins."

"But…" Merlin was struggling to find the right words. "You've never shown any interest for her before…"

"Well, you _clearly _don't know me very well, do you _Mer_lin?" Arthur spat, "Morgana is the love of my life. I would do anything for her." He huffed. "Now shut up!" he instructed, "I have a love note to compose."

Merlin watched, dismayed, as Arthur ripped a sheet of paper from his notebook and began jotting words down, pausing occasionally to mumble under his breath before continuing.

Maybe Merlin was overreacting… after all, he wasn't completely unbiased in the matter. He couldn't imagine a single situation where he would have been thrilled to discover that Arthur had feelings for someone else. At least, not while he was still so incapable of shaking the feelings he had developed for Ares. But it was still a fact that in both, his letters and his behaviour, Arthur had never shown anything but platonic affection for Morgana. So, even from an objective standpoint - which Merlin's wasn't - the prince's new found affections seemed to come out of the blue. Plus, even if he _was_ really in love with Morgana, why was he behaving so odd? Granted, Merlin had never been in love, but surely even when inflicted with it, a person could control their emotions enough to act normally in class?

Merlin spent half the lecture attempting to get Arthur to talk to him or work on their essay, but the prince adamantly refused to be disturbed from his love letter composition. So when he realized he wasn't going to get the prince to budge, Merlin focused all his attention on trying to see what he was writing instead. After he managed to sneak a peek at it, he spent the rest of the class trying not to think about it, lest he burst out into laughter. He had already been admonished by Professor Gale after he saw the line '_Morgana, Morgana. You're like a pirahna. One that took a bite from my heart' _and snorted so loudly that he had disturbed all the groups that were working around them.

He really couldn't help it, the poem was absolutely appalling. And with the amount of attention Arthur was putting into it, he expected something a little better than

'_Morgana, my love. You are the hand to my glove._

_I mean that we fit. Not that I'm made of leather.' _

Clearly Arthur wasn't much of a poet.

But while his attempts at poetry would make a Vogon cry, it wasn't the real problem. Merlin was now positive something was going on with Arthur. He seemed all consumed by his feelings, unable to talk about anything else. And if there was one thing Merlin knew for sure about the prince, it was that off-email he had extreme difficulty expressing himself. So there was definitely something bizarre about him being so frank and open about his emotions.

It didn't take Merlin very long to figure out that the cause of his behaviour could very likely be sorcery. Though why someone would want Arthur to fall in love with Morgana was another question.

"Arthur," Merlin said cautiously as the lecture drew to an end, "I have a friend I want you to meet. If you're not busy now…"

"I'm always busy." Arthur snapped. "I don't have time to accompany you on your playdates."

Merlin exhaled exasperatedly. "Honestly, I would just need five minutes of your time."

"No."

"Arthur, you are going to come with me if I have to drag you by your pretty little toes."

Arthur glared at him. "Did you just give me an order?"

"Yes."

"_I'm _the prince."

"Yes, you've made that _very _clear over the course of our acquaintance." Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not coming with you." Arthur said, with an air of finality. He bent over to shove his books in his bag and Merlin had to remind himself not to stare at the extremely nice royal backside.

There really was only one thing he could do.

"I'm taking you to meet Morgana."

"What?" Arthur perked up, dropping the book that was in his hand. "Why didn't you say so before?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

Arthur grinned excitedly and reached out a hand to ruffle Merlin's hair, but Merlin ducked, confused at the odd gesture. "You're such a good friend, Merlin." Arthur said, beaming.

"I try." He replied, putting on a smile dripping with fake sweetness.

He waited until Arthur finished packing and then led him wordlessly down the corridor, stopping before Gaius's office.

"She's in here." Merlin whispered to the prince. "I'm going to go inside and announce your arrival. Wait out here."

Arthur nodded enthusiastically and Merlin rolled his eyes again before slipping in the room. Gaius was reading a book on his desk. He started as the door clicked behind Merlin, looking completely disoriented.

"Merlin!" He said, quickly glancing at the calendar on the wall. "We don't have a lesson right now, do we?"

"No." Merlin looked around the room hastily, as if afraid someone might be watching. "But I need your help, professor."

"What is it, boy?" Gaius sat up straight, a look of concern overtaking his features. "Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine. It's…" Merlin coughed, awkwardly. "It's Arthur."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"I… I think he's enchanted."

"And why would you think that?"

"He's behaving really odd… I've brought him. Just… just talk to him, you'll see what I mean."

Gaius nodded uncertainly and Merlin walked over to the door and peeked out into the hallway.

"Alright Arthur, you can come in." He called out.

Arthur bounded into the room, almost knocking Merlin over in the process. Standing in the center of the stuffy office, he glanced around, seeming more and more confused by the minute. Merlin noted with amusement that in his enchanted state, Arthur almost resembled a giant golden retriever.

"Where is she?" Arthur demanded.

A giant _aggressive_ golden retriever.

"Who?" Gaius asked.

"Morgana!" Arthur said, angrily. He turned to Merlin, glaring at him. "You said she'd be here. Where is she?"

"Uhmm. I sort of lied." Merlin said, and winced when the prince stamped his foot loudly against the wooden floor.

"You have just wasted ten minutes of my time!" He roared.

"We were hardly here for…"

"I don't have to take another second of this nonsense." He stuck a finger in Merlin's face, threateningly. "If you ever waste my time again I will throw you into prison."

Merlin couldn't stop a small laugh from emerging as a fuming Arthur stormed out of the room. As the door slammed shut, he turned to Gaius questioningly.

"Well? He's enchanted isn't he? He's an arrogant ass but he's not like that." Merlin said, gesturing towards the door with his thumb.

Gaius shook his head, worriedly. "I dare say he is." He scuttled over to his desk, wringing his hands. "We must keep this between us Merlin. If Uther were to find out that someone enchanted his son we would all have hell to pay."

"People will figure it out themselves if he keeps behaving like that!" Merlin exclaimed. "He's playing in a match tomorrow. A_ lot_ of people are going to be there. If he makes a fool of himself there, the whole university will know in seconds."

Gaius sighed. "Well, we have to do something about it then."

"What can _we _do?"

Gaius sunk into the chair behind his desk and stared out the window for a few seconds.

"I want you to go to his room." He said, finally.

Out of all the things his professor could have said, that was probably the last thing Merlin expected. "What? How would that help?"

"If there is a lock of hair under his pillow it is proof that Arthur has an love spell put upon him."

"I'm fairly positive Arthur has a love spell on him, Gaius." Merlin attested, "I don't think we should be worrying…"

"If the spell involves a lock of hair," Gaius said, cutting him off, "then the remedy is far different from the remedy of a love spell that involves, say, a potion that has to be ingested or that of a love spell caused by objects that have to be worn on the body to work, such as rings or pendants."

"So you want me to go to his room and start rooting through his bed?" Merlin asked, doubtfully.

"The two of you are friends, aren't you?" Gaius asked, waving it off. "I'm sure you'll find a way. This really is of utmost importance Merlin, we don't want the prince to get in any kind of trouble."

"I thought I was supposed to protect him, not babysit him." Merlin muttered under his breath as he left the room.

* * *

Merlin knocked on the door just as another bout of worry that Arthur might not be there overtook him. He had called Gwen earlier, and she said that Arthur had come by a few hours prior and that he and Morgana had proceeded to have a long whispered conversation that looked very serious. She hadn't been able to hear what they were talking about, she admitted, they were too soft. She had then gone for dinner and returned to find Morgana alone. On Merlin's behest, she asked her roommate where Arthur was, to which Morgana just shrugged and said "Probably his room". So Merlin found himself in the hallway of the two-storey house which contained the four large suites reserved for the children of wealthy families.

The door finally opened and Merlin was thrown into speechlessness as those intoxicating blue eyes stared drowsily back at him. Arthur was wearing a plain gray t-shirt and pajamas, but for some reason he had never looked so attractive.

"Yes?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Could I talk to you?"

Arthur frowned, pouting his lips slightly as if doubting Merlin's intentions.

"Have you come to apologize?"

Merlin stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes."

Arthur nodded sleepily and stepped to the side, letting Merlin enter the living area of the large suite. It was warm and bright, with paintings on the walls and decorative lamps on each table. To Merlin, it looked more like a hotel room than a university dorm room. He stared at the thick curtains and the plush chairs, avoiding the gaze of Arthur's bodyguard who was sitting on the sofa, looking incredibly concerned.

"I'm going to my room, Percy." Arthur said, yawning.

The man nodded silently, but kept his eyes trained on the two of them as they disappeared into Arthur's bedroom.

The first thing that hit Merlin about the room was that it smelled like Arthur. Like soap and orange juice and grass, mixed with coffee and faint wisps of deodorant. He inhaled the scent as Arthur flopped down into his bed and looked at him expectantly. "Go ahead."

Merlin glanced around the room, noticing scattered clothes and dirty mugs and un-filed papers. "I'm sorry. I was wrong for… um… lying to you," he said, unconvincingly.

Arthur smiled sadly. "I just wanted to see Morgana."

"I know, and I took advantage of that and tricked you." Merlin tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I forgive you." Arthur patted the spot next to him and Merlin sat down on the blue bedspread, surprised he got off so easily. He was expecting Arthur to ask him why he'd done it, to which Merlin had concocted a ridiculous story involving a surprise party for Gaius. He was glad he didn't have to tell it after all.

"I'm actually glad you're here, Merlin," Arthur said. "I need to talk to someone, but Morgana made me promise I wouldn't say anything about it to Percival. Actually she said 'don't tell anyone', but I trust you. I can tell you, right?"

"Tell me what?" Merlin asked, his brow wrinkling. "What's wrong?"

Arthur sighed and leaned back on the pillows. "I love her, you know?" he said, and Merlin once again struggled to ignore the sharp pangs of jealousy that seized him.

"Yes, you've mentioned," he said, somewhat brusquely.

"But she's so hard to impress." Arthur shook his head. "She refuses to be with me until after the Winter Break."

"She… said she'd go out with you?" Merlin stammered, trying to seem nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Yes." Arthur lay back on the pillows, staring dreamily up at the ceiling. "But it's such a long time away."

"It is." Merlin said, nodding a little too profusely. "That's too long. Why can't you just date now?"

Arthur waved his hand as if lazily conducting an orchestra. "She wants me to do something for her during the break. If I do it, she said she'll be mine."

The jealousy Merlin had been gripped by just moments earlier transformed into fear, and his heart began hammering in his chest. He couldn't shake the stifling feeling of foreboding that suddenly blanketed him.

"Arthur," he said, his tone suddenly serious, "what did she ask you to do during the break?"

Arthur yawned. "Kill my father."


End file.
